Lose Control
by WildestDreams121788
Summary: I think it'd be nice just to lose control just once. Can we play the game your way? Can I really lose control? Layla Emerson fell through time, bloody and scarred, and landed right in the lap of Lucius Malfoy. Layla, however, only has eyes for Order member Sirius Black and her new best friend Regulus Black. Will she ever be safe, or will she spin wildly out of control forever?
1. Chapter 1: Girl with One Eye

_"I slipped my hand under her skirt. I said don't worry; it's not gonna hurt. Oh, my reputation is kinda clouded with dirt. That's why she sleeps with one eye open at night." — Girl With One Eye, Florence and the Machine_

* * *

 **September 30, 1997**

The Snatcher behind Layla grabbed her ink black hair by the roots and yanked, pulling her head back and exposing the vulnerable skin of her pale neck. Layla hissed at the pain in her scalp as Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix LeStrange watched. "You're one of Potter's friends," Malfoy accused. "You were with those children in the Department of Mysteries."

"Where is Potter?" Bellatrix spat, more impatient than Malfoy.

Layla stayed silent until the Snatcher holding her hair pulled it again, shaking her head. She gasped, then said defiantly, "I don't know."

Bellatrix whipped her wand at Layla, hitting her in the chest with a Stinging Jinx. Layla squealed and tried to move away from the pain, but the Snatcher held her firmly in place. The group of Snatchers who had captured her several days earlier had kept her to themselves at first, deciding to have a little fun with this particular Muggleborn before turning her over to the Ministry of Magic. However, within a few hours of her imprisonment with the dementors at the Ministry, Layla had been taken to Malfoy Manor instead of Azkaban when someone noticed that her name appeared on the list of known Dumbledore's Army members. Now, she was facing down Bellatrix LeStrange and Lucius Malfoy, alone and terrified. "You're lying," Bellatrix purred. "He trusts you. You're part of his little army of babies. Where is your precious leader, mudblood? Where is Harry Potter?"

Before Layla could say a word, Bellatrix flicked her wand at the young girl again, placing her under the Cruciatus Curse. Layla screamed and writhed against the grip of the Snatcher, who forced her to continue standing. When Bellatrix finally released her, Layla gasped, "I don't know anything about Potter; I swear!"

"You filthy, lying little mudblood," Bellatrix sneered. The Death Eater lieutenant pulled a dagger from the belt at her waist. She delicately traced her way down Layla's neck with the tip of her knife as Layla whined and did her best not to move, fearful of the damage the slightest movement could cause. The knife cut the lightest of lines down her neck, missing her jugular and carotid veins, by sheer luck or design, Layla couldn't be sure. Bellatrix lightly pulled the knife down across Layla's collarbone, her shoulder, and her arm, tugging it against the girl's sweater, until the tip cut through the fabric and rested lightly against the skin of her left forearm. Bellatrix held Layla's arm under the tip of her dagger firmly as she asked again, "Where is that dirty halfblood, Potter?"

Layla said, terror replacing the defiance in her tone, "I don't know. I haven't heard from him since the end of last school year; I promise."

Bellatrix grinned at her. "I don't believe you," she hissed, then dug the blade into the skin and muscle of Layla's forearm. Shrieking, Layla struggled, but between Bellatrix's grip and the hold of the Snatcher, she couldn't escape from Bellatrix as the older witch carved up her arm. After what seemed like hours, Bellatrix removed the knife from Layla's destroyed flesh, and Layla sagged sobbing against the Snatcher, unable to hold herself on her feet any longer. "I'll ask this once more before I throw you into the dungeon with our resident werewolf to be eaten alive," Bellatrix said. "Where is Harry Potter?"

Weakly shaking her head, Layla cried, "I don't know. Please, I don't know anything!"

Bellatrix turned her wand on Layla again. "Liar!" she shrieked, hitting Layla with another Cruciatus Curse. Layla's screaming coincided with the tinkle of glass breaking, then everything around Layla faded, merging and twisting from what it was into something the same but somehow new.

When the world around Layla stabilized again, she fell to the floor in the same study of Malfoy Manor she'd previously been in, only now the fireplace was lit, and the room was full of bookshelves stuffed with books, along with antique furniture, rather than empty, gray, and dismal. Across from her in an armchair sat Draco Malfoy with a glass of wine and an open book, staring at her in complete shock as light from the setting sun streamed through the window. Layla weakly struggled to her feet as Malfoy exclaimed, "Who the bloody hell are you, and how did you get in here?"

Layla swayed on her feet as her arm bled profusely, dripping blood all over the Oriental rug on the floor. A large wolfhound lounging on the rug by the fireplace growled at her as she stumbled a few steps toward the closed door in a bid for escape, but Malfoy stood, setting the book and wine glass quickly on the side table next to his chair and rushing over to her. Layla screamed when Malfoy grabbed her by the upper arms, shrieking, "No, no, please! Let me go! I don't know anything! I swear I don't know anything!"

Malfoy struggled to hold onto Layla as she fought viciously against his hold. "What are you talking about?" Malfoy demanded. "You don't know anything about what? Who are you?" When Layla ignored his questions as he pulled her toward the sofa, screaming instead of answering, Malfoy snapped, "Stop the bloody caterwauling." Malfoy forced her to sit down on the sofa and knelt in front of her, Layla's shrieks ceasing at his tone of authority, but she glared at him with a look of such pure hatred that left Malfoy momentarily dumbfounded. "I'm not going to hurt you," Malfoy said after a moment's thought, more gently.

Suddenly realizing that the man in front of her had blue eyes instead of gray, Layla's eyes widened in horror as a certain realization dawned on her. "W-who are you?" she sputtered.

Malfoy frowned, watching her face intently for a minute, then began to examine her spasming, mutilated arm. "Lucius Malfoy. This is my home," he said. "Now, will you please tell me who you are and how you ended up in my house?"

Layla hissed as Malfoy waved his wand over her arm and began the process of healing her wounded forearm, making the damaged muscles in her arm itch and sting deep inside. "I don't know how I got here," Layla said quietly, dodging the other question about her identity as tears streamed down her face from the horrific burning pain in her arm. "I have to get out of here," Layla pleaded, hoping that the young Lucius Malfoy would be more easily fooled than his older self and allow her to leave. "My parents are expecting me to be in Hogsmeade for dinner. They won't be happy if I'm late."

As the trembling in Layla's arm began to subside somewhat, Malfoy snorted, "I doubt that is true."

"Why?" Layla asked quietly.

"First of all, you look as though you've been homeless for some time now. People who have parents who care about their whereabouts don't look like vagabonds," Malfoy said, using his wand to trace the knife wounds on her arm with another healing spell as Layla's muscles continued to stitch themselves back together. "Secondly, someone has clearly been torturing you. It's much more likely that you're a kidnap victim than a kid looking for her parents. I doubt anyone has any idea where you are. Why won't you tell me your name?" Malfoy asked, looking up at Layla's eyes, red from crying.

As exhaustion began to creep up on Layla, her adrenaline beginning to fade, she begged, "Please, I don't know how I got here, and I definitely do not want to be here. I just need to get back to Hogwarts. I'm supposed to be in my seventh year of school there; I'm a Ravenclaw. The professors there can help me find my parents again, ok? Please?"

Malfoy sighed. "Your name, dear. I just want your name. I'm not hurting you by keeping you here for a little while to heal your wounds."

Layla swallowed hard, then mumbled, "Layla. My name's Layla."

Huffing, Malfoy said, "What, do you not have a surname?"

"For now, no, I don't," Layla said bitterly.

"Fine," Malfoy said, contemplating something as he stopped the movement of his wand over her skin. The muscle was now completely healed, leaving only the skin damaged. The wolfhound by the fireplace groaned as he stood from the floor and moved to stand next to Malfoy, laying his head on his master's knee and whining as he stared at the stranger in the house. Under normal circumstances, Layla would have jumped at the chance to pet any dog, but not in her current situation. The slices on her arm oozed blood as Malfoy said, "I'm no healer. I'll have to take you to St. Mungo's to make sure the muscles and blood vessels have been healed correctly before I feel comfortable sealing the skin." Layla nodded as Malfoy watched her face intently. "Why would someone torture a child like yourself?"

Layla shrugged. "Some people are seriously twisted. Can we go to St. Mungo's now?"

Malfoy frowned. "Did Death Eaters kidnap you?"

Layla froze, then lied, "No. Just some sick git with no conscience."

Malfoy moved to sit next to her on the sofa. "How did you get in my house?"

Layla repeated, "I don't know."

"I don't believe that," Malfoy said calmly. "There are Anti-Apparition wards on this manor, so you couldn't have just popped into my study without some powerful magic."

"I don't even have my wand anymore," Layla argued. "How do you expect me to have performed such powerful magic?"

Malfoy shrugged. "That's for you to explain, not me."

Groaning, Layla said impatiently, "Can't I explain at St. Mungo's?"

"Who tortured you?"

"I don't know."

"What do you know then?" Malfoy snapped.

"I know that I need a mediwitch," Layla snapped back.

"Fine," Malfoy said, frustrated. He stood, and Layla followed suit. He offered her his arm, and she hesitated. Agitated, Malfoy said, "Merlin's beard, I'm not made of dark magic, dear. You won't die of contact poisoning if you touch me."

Layla flinched slightly at his tone, then accepted his arm. He walked her over to the fireplace, grabbed some Floo powder from on top of the mantelpiece, and tossed it into the flames. The fire turned green, and together, Malfoy and Layla stepped into the fireplace. The Floo System sucked them into its tunnels, and Layla lost her grip on Malfoy's arm as she tumbled out of the fireplace and into a St. Mungo's waiting room. Layla coughed from accidentally inhaling ash as Malfoy pulled her to her feet and patted her back. Once she could breathe again, Layla glared at him and snapped, "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Why would I not be?" Malfoy asked, blonde eyebrows knitting together at her question.

Layla shook her head as a healer rushed to her side. "Nevermind," Layla said as the healer pulled her away to an exam room.

* * *

 **August 1977**

Layla sat on the edge of her bed in St. Mungo's, desperately trying to figure out how in the world she was going to pay for a hospital room. The calendar at the nurse's station she'd walked past, or whatever the wizarding equivalent was, said that the year was 1977, and the shattered time turner Layla was slipping into the pocket of her skinny jeans was the obvious reason why she had suddenly found herself twenty years in the past. She certainly didn't have any friends, relatives, or money in this time period. She was completely clueless how she was going to survive without even so much as a wand as Malfoy entered the room and sat on the bed next to her. Layla ignored him in favor of lacing up her combat boots when she suddenly felt his fingers stroking the back of her neck, firm yet gentle. She stiffened under his touch and shut her eyes tight against the reality in front of her, disbelieving that Lucius Malfoy, the same man who had just been watching his sister-in-law torture her, was now twenty years younger and attempting to knead the corded tension from her neck muscles. "How are you feeling?"

Layla didn't open her eyes as she said bitterly, "Why do you care?"

Malfoy sighed. "I don't understand this impression of me that you seem to be laboring under. You seem to somehow know who I am and expect me to be the worst sort of villain. You're practically a child; you showed up in my house injured, tortured, in dire need of assistance. Why should I turn you away?"

"I'm not pureblood, and you know it," Layla mocked. "I know you Malfoys and your obsession with blood purity."

Malfoy chuckled. "I do believe you're mistaking the Malfoys for the Blacks. Our focus is considerably less on blood purity and more on attaining power. You, my dear, while quite rude, also appear to be a rather powerful witch if you were able to simply appear in my home out of thin air despite all the wards I have placed around it." Layla opened her eyes and looked at him, surprised. "I'd rather have you as an ally than an enemy, and based on the state you were in when you appeared, I'd say you're in desperate need of some allies right now."

Layla shook her head, and Malfoy's fingers drifted down to her shoulder. "I need to go back to Hogwarts in September," Layla said slowly, but once she had started speaking, the words came tumbling out, unbidden and uncontrolled. "But I've sort of lost track of time. I've no idea how I'm going to get new school uniforms or schoolbooks, and my wand is gone. I've lost my wand, and I don't have any money at all. I can't possibly afford to buy a new wand, let alone the rest, and —"

"Shh," Malfoy said soothingly, digging his fingers into her shoulder muscle in a gentle, calming rhythm that made Layla shiver with both relief and disgust. "Just relax. You must be exhausted. So confused and so alone, hmm?" He was right, of course; Layla's head was absolutely spinning. She'd never expected this sort of behavior out of Lucius Malfoy at any stage of his life, and she hadn't a clue how to react to it. "Don't you worry, dear. I'll cover your bills and make sure you have everything you need. You can live with me until the school year begins. Are you actually enrolled at Hogwarts for the upcoming school year?" Layla hesitated, then shook her head. "I'll take care of that as well, then," Malfoy said, his tone leaving no room for discussion. Layla tried to resist the relaxation that Malfoy's touch was bringing her tired muscles, but she had barely slept in days, and her eyelids were getting heavy. She struggled not to allow his self-assurance in his own ability to take care of her to cause her to feel safe and secure; she wasn't. She would never be safe with him, and she knew it, and yet… "Now, are you willing to return to the manor with me?" Malfoy asked, his voice forcing her to jerk suddenly, not having realized until that moment that she had started to fall asleep and had somehow ended up leaning against his side with her head on his broad shoulder.

Layla jumped away from Malfoy, launching to her feet to stand a good meter away from Malfoy before she dared to answer. "I don't want anything to do with Voldemort and the Death Eaters," Layla said firmly, staring pointedly at Malfoy's left arm.

Malfoy sighed. "As of now, no one other than the healers here is aware that you and I have ever met," Malfoy said. "For now, at least, it may stay that way, for a price."

Layla snorted. "What sort of price?" she scoffed.

"Your full name, for one," Malfoy said. "I also want to know how exactly you got into my house and why. I'm offering you protection from any enemies, coverage for all financial responsibilities, and a place to stay on all breaks from Hogwarts. Such luxuries for such little information, I'd say the price is rather low, wouldn't you agree?"

Layla squirmed nervously under Malfoy's intense gaze. Finally, she said, "Fine, all right. I'll tell you, but you have to take me somewhere safe where we can't be overheard first."

Malfoy grinned triumphantly. "Very well, then," he said. He extended his hand to her, and after a moment's hesitation, she accepted it. Malfoy disapparated, pulling Layla along with him, and the pair landed in front of the gates to Malfoy Manor. As Malfoy led her forward, not releasing her hand, the gates swung open for them to pass through, and closed behind them once they had. Once inside the house, Malfoy called, "Dobby!"

The house elf appeared in front of the pair, his large green eyes staring at Layla with curiosity. "Yes, Master?" Dobby said, bowing low in front of Malfoy.

"Prepare one of the guest rooms for this lovely lady," Malfoy said shortly. "The one closest to my bedroom."

"Yes, Master," Dobby said, then with a loud crack, the elf disapparated.

"Feel free to make use of the elf as much as you need to," Malfoy said as he led Layla from the foyer to the sitting room. "Now, tell me what I want to know."

Layla sighed, rubbing her tired eyes. "Layla Emerson. My name is Layla Emerson," she admitted. Malfoy tilted his head as he sat on a sofa and watched her with interest. When he said nothing, she continued, "I was wearing a time turner, and it broke while Bellatrix LeStrange was torturing me. Somehow that brought me here."

Malfoy looked momentarily stunned, then he nodded. "You really are a mudblood, then," he said, his tone giving away none of his thoughts on the subject, even if his terminology did. Layla nodded. "I see why you want to steer clear of the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. Bellatrix tortured you, you say? Narcissa Black's older sister?" Nodding again, Layla stood nervously in front of the young Lucius Malfoy, pulling at the torn and bloody sleeve of her Ravenclaw jumper. "I'm in negotiations to marry Miss Black, you know."

"I'm not surprised," Layla sniped. "You two make a nice couple. Your son was the bane of my existence throughout my childhood."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her, but when Layla didn't elaborate, he said, "Perhaps I can put those negotiations on the back burner until I've had the chance to reevaluate the connection." Layla was too surprised to say anything. "Will the Dark Lord be successful in his plans?"

Layla shrugged. "It seems so, as I've no immediate knowledge of his being defeated," she said, intentionally vague as she mimicked his formal tone, taunting him, out of habits developed regarding the future son he looked so much like more than anything else.

Malfoy watched her closely, eyes narrowed, then nodded. "Very well, then," he said simply. "Now, you are aware, I imagine, that I have already become a Death Eater?" Layla nodded, biting her lip in an effort not to say something that may anger the older man into changing his mind about not informing Voldemort about the time-traveling girl in his house. "Then you must be aware that I cannot leave them as long as the Dark Lord is in power. Eventually, he will notice your existence, Miss Layla Emerson. What shall be done with you then?"

"I don't know anything that would help him take power or keep it," Layla said slowly, unsure what Malfoy was expecting from her.

"Why was Bellatrix LeStrange torturing you?" Malfoy asked.

Layla hesitated, then lied, "She's Bellatrix LeStrange. She doesn't need a reason beyond my blood status."

Malfoy evaluated her statement for a moment, then sighed. "That's true enough. All right. I believe I am satisfied with the answers you've given me, for now at least. I'm sure with time, I'll have more questions, but for now, these were sufficient." Layla tried and failed to stifle a yawn as Malfoy stood and crossed the room to stand in front of her. "May I see your broken time turner?" Layla tiredly pulled the shattered time turner from her pocket and dropped it in Malfoy's open hand, suddenly too exhausted to argue or fight back. "Well, at least now I can be fairly certain that you're telling the truth about how you arrived here. We can discuss your new identity in this time period tomorrow. I would imagine that right now you need to eat and sleep so that you can begin to recover from this ordeal. Am I correct?"

When Malfoy waited for a reply, Layla mumbled, "Sleep. I really want to sleep."

Malfoy tucked a stray strand of black hair behind Layla's ear, sending a chill down her spine. "Then let me show you to your bedroom," Malfoy murmured. He turned and walked away, forcing Layla to hurry to follow. Too drained to keep track of the path they took, Layla ran into Malfoy's back when he suddenly stopped in front of her. He looked back at her with an arched eyebrow, and she felt her cheeks heat against her will. He placed a hand on the small of her back and ushered her into the room. The only detail about her surroundings that Layla absorbed in her sleep-deprived state was the king-sized black bed. She wavered, uncertainty and panic gripping her over whether she should really be trusting Lucius Malfoy, of all people, to not kill her in her sleep, but then he gently pushed her forward. She climbed onto the most comfortable bed she'd ever touched, collapsing on top of the covers as the weight of the world started to lift from her shoulders. She struggled to keep her eyes open as Malfoy pulled the blankets out of from under her and covered her with them. He said something to her that she couldn't understand, then she was dead asleep.

* * *

Layla bolted upright, screaming and flailing against the vice-like grip on her wrists. She shuddered from the dream — startling vivid, even as consciousness brought reality back. The fighting, the screaming, the icy clench of fear in her chest. Images of her parents being murdered, burning far too real and bright against her eyelids. Even as the memories and the sounds of her parents' screams faded, Layla's own screams dissolved into sobs. It was only then that she heard Malfoy's voice as he pulled her tightly to his chest, "Shh, shh. Now, now, dear. It's just a bad dream. It's all right. No one will touch you as long as you're here with me."

Try as she might, Layla couldn't stop crying or resist Malfoy's embrace. Malfoy continued to make soft, soothing comments until Layla gasped through the tears, "My parents… were murdered… in front of me… a couple weeks ago…"

Malfoy paused, then resumed gently rocking Layla back and forth. "I'm sorry," he murmured in her ear, smoothing her disheveled wavy hair with one hand.

Layla wrenched herself out of Malfoy's arms as she came back to herself. "Why are you here?" she snapped, scooting back against the pillows to put as much distance between herself and Malfoy as possible.

Frowning, Malfoy said quietly, "You woke me up with your screaming, so I came to check on you."

Layla finally noticed that Malfoy was shirtless, dressed in nothing but a pair of royal blue silk pajama pants. Her face turned bright red, and she glanced away from his face, only for her eyes to land on the Dark Mark, the black ink of the mark burning her eyes against the pale skin of his forearm. She flinched away from the Dark Mark and stared down at the black blankets and silver sheets that covered her lap. "I don't understand why I'm here," she admitted. "You're a Death Eater, and I'm Muggleborn."

"You have nowhere else to go," Malfoy reminded her. "You know no one here."

Layla nodded. "Professor Dumbledore should be the one helping me through this," she said firmly. "The Order of the Phoenix should be —"

"The Order of the Phoenix can't do anything for you," Malfoy sneered. "They'll just try to use you and your knowledge of the future to defeat the Dark Lord."

"I want him defeated," Layla snapped.

"I would expect nothing less from a mudblood like you," Malfoy retorted. "But I'm guessing that if you're from a future where Voldemort is in power enough that Bellatrix LeStrange was torturing you for no other reason than your blood status, you don't have any more of an idea of how to defeat him than the Order currently does. Am I right?" After a moment's pause, Layla nodded. "I thought so. Now, as much as you may despise me for my position as a Death Eater, the reality is that it places me in a much better position than those fools at the Order to protect you from the Dark Lord, understand?"

Layla glared at Malfoy in silence for a minute before she finally hissed, "Yes."

"Good," Malfoy said, calmer now. "Now, there are just a couple days until the school year begins, so we're going to have to work quickly if you want to go back and take your seventh year of school. I'm assuming that if you're wanting to return to school, that means that you won't be running into your younger self there?" Layla nodded, the unadulterated hatred in her eyes wavering as she stared down the man who looked at her as though she was worth the weight of the world in gold. "Good. I'll need you to write down your O.W.L.'s for me to give to the school so that they are able to place you in the proper N.E.W.T. level classes, and, of course, we'll have to come up with a cover story for who you are and where you came from."

"Ok," Layla mumbled, finally accepting defeat and lowering her gaze. Malfoy reached out and took her hand, making her shudder with a strange mix of fear, disgust, and comfort. As much as she despised the evil man in front of her, he was helping her of his own free will, and so far, had asked for extremely little in return, though she was prepared for the other shoe to drop any moment. She said quietly, "Who do I have to become?"

"You could be a long-lost Malfoy halfblood cousin," Malfoy suggested.

Layla shook her head. "No," she said firmly. "I don't want to be related to the likes of you."

"It would be the simplest way for me to protect you and explain your sudden appearance," Malfoy said. "Without informing someone else of your true identity, I don't know if I can offer any other false identity."

"Well, you'll just have to figure something else out," Layla snapped. "I don't want to be part of your family. I don't ever want your name attached to me."

"You may have no other choice," Malfoy warned.

"I would have more choices if you would take me Dumbledore like I want," Layla growled.

"Dumbledore would use you for his own purposes. He wouldn't care what became of you as long as you helped him further his own agenda."

"Is that not what you're doing right now?" Layla mocked. "Because that's what it seems like you're doing."

"Hey, you showed up in my house," Malfoy said. "I'm just doing my best to take care of my incredibly stubborn and aggressive guest. Is that really so terrible, my dear?"

"I'm not your dear; stop calling me that," Layla hissed.

Malfoy chuckled. "Layla," he said, surprising her by smiling at her for the first time since she arrived. "You are absolutely bloody impossible."

"Excuse me?"

"I do believe I was perfectly clear," Malfoy said, exasperated. "I'm trying very hard to win you over, and you are being incredibly resistant."

"Maybe that's because I don't want to be won," Layla smirked, overjoyed that her resistance to his attempts at charming her was getting under his skin.

Malfoy sighed. "I'll change your mind, one day," he said confidently. "I'm the only person you can truly trust."

"I'll never believe that," Layla said bitterly.

Malfoy sighed. "All right. You keep thinking that for now." He patted her leg, and she jerked at the sudden touch. "Go back to sleep," he ordered, standing. "I'll take you to Diagon Alley in the morning for school supplies and a wand." Layla nodded in silence, then Malfoy left the room, leaving her alone in the dark room once more.

* * *

The next morning, Layla woke to find a clean set of green robes and a black dress laying across the foot of her bed. Surprised to find that the clothes fit her, she quickly dressed in them, having just barely finished as a knock came at the door. She opened it to find Malfoy on the other side, dressed in his older self's usual stylish black suit, tie, and robes. "Ready to leave?" Malfoy asked.

"Leave?" Layla repeated, confused.

"For Diagon Alley. It's August 30. I've already spoken with the Board of Governors at Hogwarts, and they're going to allow you to attend Hogwarts as a seventh year on September 1, which means we haven't much time to get you situated to do so. You did mention that you were a Ravenclaw, correct?" Layla nodded, too shocked to resist as Malfoy took her hand and interweaved their fingers. "Very good then. I'll make sure you're back in the same house as before. Meanwhile, I've introduced you as Layla Danes, a halfblood and family friend who has just returned to Britain from the United States for the first time in ten years, and forged school records from the wizarding school there as proof of your previous grades from the list you so kindly slipped under my door last night. I've also done all the necessary paperwork to make myself your legal guardian and emergency contact with the Ministry and the school, should you be involved in some sort of accident. As far as either organization is concerned, your parents are dead, which is how I gained custody of you. I hope that is acceptable to you, because it was the best I could without bringing in someone else while not making us related by blood, as you requested, and if it is not acceptable, then you will have to learn to live with it, as it's already done."

"Layla Danes," she repeated the name, both familiar and foreign on her tongue, too overwhelmed by the sudden influx of new information to focus on anything more. Somehow, the name tasted like poison on her tongue.

"Are you ready to leave?" Malfoy said again. This time, Layla nodded, and Malfoy tugged her to follow behind him until they were stepping through the front gate of the manor. He disapparated, pulling her along with him. The pair reappeared just inside Diagon Alley, the street bustling with students and their families preparing to return to Hogwarts for another year. Layla felt like it'd been ages since she'd seen the alley in such good shape, teeming with human life and sunlight. Malfoy tugged her forward. "Come now, dear," Malfoy said, smirking at her as he called her the nickname he knew she despised. "Let's get you what you need."

Malfoy easily led her throughout the shops, stopping in at places like Flourish and Blotts, Madame Malkin's, and Potage's Cauldron Shop, before he took her to Gringotts to add her name to a list of those with permission to access the Malfoy family vault, along with giving her a rather large bag of galleons to spend in Hogsmeade over the course of the first term. As they left the bank, Layla shook her head in disbelief. That she, of all people, had access to the money that had allowed the Malfoys such prestige and influence during her lifetime left her so stunned that she didn't recognize their destination until they had stepped inside the wand shop. Ollivander, a pale-eyed, white-haired man, greeted them with a friendly, "Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Elm, dragon heartstring, thirteen and a half inches, rather flexible. What may I do for you?"

Malfoy said, "I'm here to buy another wand today, Mr. Ollivander. My _dear_ friend here has had her wand stolen and is in need of a replacement." Layla gave him a quick glare at the use of what appeared to be his new favorite word, only to find him watching her in return, a smug grin on his lips.

"Of course," Ollivander said, waving his own wand and a tape measure flew toward Layla of its own accord, oblivious to the tension between the two. The tape measure assessed Layla as Ollivander asked, "Which is your wand arm, Miss?"

Layla, flustered, answered, "Um, the right."

"What was your previous wand?" Ollivander asked as the tape measure calculated the length of her arm in various proportions.

As the tape measure flew back across the room to Ollivander, Layla replied, "Chestnut and unicorn hair."

"Ah, I see," Ollivander said with a knowing look in his eyes. "I have one that you might suit." Disappearing into the stacks of wand boxes for a moment, he returned with a box that looked oddly familiar to Layla. He opened it and handed her the wand, which Layla immediately recognized. She took it, and gold sparks immediately flew from the tip, zooming about the room until they exploded like small firecrackers near the ceiling. "Excellent, excellent," Ollivander said with glee. "It's a perfect match. This particular wand costs six galleons."

Malfoy paid Ollivander for the wand and quickly led Layla from the shop. "You should be all set for your school supplies, then," Malfoy said as they stepped out of the shop. "You'll have one more day to recuperate from your recent experiences at our home, then you'll be heading back to Hogwarts."

Layla said, "You know what's peculiar?" Malfoy looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "This is the exact same wand that I got when I was eleven."

"Is it?"

"Yes, it is," Layla said, examining it with wonder. "I suppose since I hadn't come in for it yet, it was just sitting there, waiting for me."

"I suppose it was," Malfoy said. When Layla looked over at him, she was surprised to find him smiling at her. In a hushed tone, he said, "I know this is rather forward, but you are quite lovely when you stop fighting so hard to stay angry at me for things I've not done yet."

Her face heated at the same time that she shivered. "Are you trying to flirt with me, Malfoy?" Layla said in astonishment.

"Most definitely," Malfoy grinned, taking her by the hand again.

Layla shook her head but was unable to free her hand from Malfoy's grip. "Don't," Layla hissed. "You're a cruel, violent, vicious man. I don't want anything to do with you."

Malfoy sighed. "You may not have noticed, Miss Danes," Malfoy said collectedly. "But I am not the same man that you knew. Additionally, I remind you again that I am currently your only friend, and I have been taking excellent care of you since you arrived in my home."

"You can't win me over," Layla insisted, even as his grip on her hand tightened. "You'll never convince me to fall for you, or whatever your end goal with this flirtation is."

Malfoy smirked as he pulled her to a stop at the end of the alley. "You'll change your mind," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Before Layla could reply, Malfoy disapparated the two of them back to the manor. Layla landed unsteadily on her feet, forcing her to lean against Malfoy's well-toned chest to stay upright. Grinning at the small victory, Malfoy wrapped an arm around her shoulders and walked her back inside Malfoy Manor.

* * *

The next night, Layla sat anxiously in a chair by the window in her bedroom at the Manor, staring blankly at one of her new textbooks, a fire blazing in the fireplace at the foot of her bed. Her new silk gray pajamas felt strangely cold against her skin. She dropped the book to her lap and pulled the sleeve of her shirt up, examining the fresh, raised pink scars on her arms with renewed horror. The majority of scars shaped together to form the word 'mudblood,' and the sight made her stomach churn. Just then, there was a sharp rap at the door, and before she could move, Malfoy walked in, wearing the same blue pants as the night before and nothing else. "You should be sleeping," Malfoy said. "The train leaves early in the morning for Hogwarts."

Layla couldn't stop the trembling that had taken over her body. She shook her head. "I – I can't sleep," she breathed, barely able to speak.

Malfoy crossed the room and perched on the arm of her chair. His fingers found the back of her neck again and began stroking the tension away. He leaned down, and, using his other hand to pull her long hair away from her face, placed the lightest of kisses to the exposed skin of her cheek. Layla nearly jumped out of her skin at the sensation, but Malfoy's fingers on the back of her neck easily held her in place. "What's wrong, dear?" he said in her ear, his nose brushing against her cheek.

Swallowing hard, tears sprang to Layla's eyes. "Stop doing that," she complained.

Malfoy noticed Layla's exposed scars, and ran the tip of a finger delicately across the length of the worst of the scars, making her shiver uneasily. "I'll keep you safe," he whispered in her ear. "I want you here with me. I want you to come back to me when your time at Hogwarts is done." Layla turned her face to glare at him, but Malfoy was closer than she'd expected, startling her into silence. Just as she found her voice again, he cut off her unsaid protests by leaning away from her with a wave of his hand. "I'm certain that by the time the Christmas holidays arrive, you'll be longing desperately to be here with me again," he said, his smug grin returning. Saying nothing more, he lightly kissed her forehead then abruptly left the room, leaving her alone and quivering.


	2. Chapter 2: Make Me Wanna Die

_Take me, I'm alive. Never was a girl with a wicked mind, but everything looks better when the sun goes down. — Make Me Wanna Die, the Pretty Reckless_

* * *

 **September 1, 1977**

When Layla woke the next morning, she groaned and covered her head with the blankets, unwilling to face another day of being watched far too closely by Lucius Malfoy. Her respite was short-lived, however, when Dobby appeared at the foot of her bed with a loud crack and began collecting her things. Once her trunk was packed, the house elf forced her out of bed and dressed, disapparating once more with her trunk. Malfoy himself appeared almost immediately after she was dressed, leading her off the grounds again to apparate to King's Cross. They apparated directly onto Platform 9 ¾, Malfoy's arm wrapped tightly around Layla's waist. His firm grip made her feel dirty and nauseous, but he refused to let go when she tried to pull away. He used his hold to pull her around in front of him, pressing their bodies together, and he grinned down at her as she felt bile in her throat. He ghosted his fingers from her forehead to her chin in a romantic gesture that left her shaking. "Are you nervous to return to Hogwarts this year?" he said quietly, grinning smugly at her reaction to his advances.

"No," Layla snapped, proverbially baring her teeth. "It's what I've wanted from the minute I got here."

Malfoy's face didn't change. "Yes, well, I'm certain that once you've seen what's waiting for you there, you'll be more than willing to come home to me when the holidays arrive."

Layla growled lowly, "If we were alone, I'd spit in your face right now."

Malfoy chuckled. "I highly doubt that. You're no Gryffindor," he whispered back. He released his hold on her, and Layla stumbled as she fell back away from him, unable to hold her balance without his grip on her waist acting as a counterweight. "You'd best board; the train is about to leave the station, my dear," Malfoy said loudly, grinning wildly at the frustration in Layla's eyes.

Unable to think of a response, Layla practically fled to the train. After some searching, she found a compartment that only had one other person in it, who appeared to be asleep, which was better than the other compartments, all of which were crammed with loud, rambunctious students. She could tell from the boy's tie he was a Gryffindor, but other than that, she knew nothing of him. She collapsed onto the bench across from him, utterly drained of energy, and tried her best not to let herself cry. She felt the train jerk and start chugging forward, then the door to the room slammed open, making her flinch away. "Wake up, Moony," a male voice crowed. "You can't sleep the whole train ride."

Layla stared out the window of the train, watching Malfoy disappear in the distance as the train left the station. He'd been waving at her, smiling that same smile that had constantly made her skin crawl over the last three days. A second male voice said, cutting into her like a knife, "Who are you? I don't remember seeing you at Hogwarts before."

Layla finally looked away from the window and found herself locking eyes with none other than Harry Potter. She gasped lightly, only to realize a moment later that his eyes were hazel, not green, and the shape of his nose was just slightly off, and that the boy in front of her must be his father, James Potter. "Umm, I transferred," Layla said lamely.

"From where?" he asked, his dark hair sticking wildly in all directions and his eyes curious under his wire-framed glasses. Layla noticed the shiny Head Boy badge on James Potter's chest, leaving her to absorb far too quickly for her taste that she was about to be in the same class as Harry Potter's father James Potter, werewolf Remus Lupin, escaped but posthumously declared innocent Azkaban occupant Sirius Black, real mass murderer Peter Pettigrew, Severus Snape, Lily Potter, and who all else she couldn't possibly begin to imagine.

"Ilvermorny," Layla mumbled, coming back to herself enough to give her rehearsed answer.

"You were with Malfoy on the platform," a deep voice accused from the doorway, and Layla looked past James Potter to see a boy who must have been a young Sirius Black, who surprised her by being incredibly handsome before his stint in Azkaban.

James's curious eyes turned critical at the mention of Malfoy, and Layla glanced past him again to find Remus Lupin, the sleeping boy, apparently, and a chubby boy who must be Peter Pettigrew, staring at her with equal suspicion. Layla rubbed the corners of her eyes, trying and failing to push the tears that had been building there away, as she admitted, "Yes, I was. He's recently become my legal guardian."

"What's your name?" Sirius demanded.

"Layla," she answered quietly. When she remembered herself, she added, "Layla Danes." After a moment of tense silence, Layla huffed and snapped, "I'm a Ravenclaw and a m—halfblood. I don't like Slytherins or Death Eaters. Malfoy makes me sick, and I hate that I'm tethered to that monster of the man for the foreseeable future. As soon as I can, I'm leaving that house and joining the Order of the Phoenix. So stop looking at me with that holier-than-thou glare, Black."

Sirius tilted his head, focusing on her like a hound does when he spots a fox. "How do you know my name?"

Layla shook her head, too overwhelmed by the constant influx of information to come up with a sufficient answer. She dropped her head to her hands with a soft groan. She had nothing. No excuses, no reasons, nothing. After a moment's silence, Layla spat, "Oh bloody hell, just leave me alone, all right?"

"Oh, come on, there must be a reason you know my name," Sirius taunted, taking first one step closer, then another, easily towering over her. He smirked down at her as though he knew he'd gotten under her skin and relished in knowing he'd caught her in a trap of her own making. "What, did my precious cousin that's engaged to Malfoy tell you about me in that much detail? Did your boyfriend Malfoy warn you to stay away from me? What?"

"Malfoy is not my boyfriend!" Layla practically screeched hoarsely, her bloodshot blue eyes snapping to Sirius's gray ones. All four boys started at her unexpectedly shrieked denial.

"Oh, come on," Sirius goaded, recovering quickly from the surprise. "You can do better than that. Anyone who saw you two together on the platform could see there was something up between you too, and it looked like it was his —"

"Enough, Sirius," Remus interrupted, putting his foot down. "You're pushing her too far."

Layla looked away, staring out the window again at the passing countryside, her eyes red and stinging. Suddenly, she felt a gentle hand on her knee, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, fumbling for her wand in her pocket until it was pointed in James Potter's concerned face. She quickly lowered her wand, her face burning with shame, as James asked, "What's your story?"

"Ah, come on, James," Sirius implored, but James would have none of it.

"Stop it, Padfoot," James said back, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "You of all people should be able to see what's going on here. Doesn't she remind you of you when you left your family?" he said, glaring back at his friend for a moment. Sirius's face fell, his jaw slackening as he now stared at Layla from a new perspective. James turned back to Layla, who refused to look at him, practically cowering under his worried gaze. "Who hurt you?" he asked quietly as Sirius shut the door to the compartment and locked it with a wave of his wand. Layla stayed silent, shaking her head. She wasn't entirely sure why she was holding her tongue; of all the people currently in her world, these were the people she could trust with her life, not the likes of Lucius Malfoy. But still, she couldn't bring herself to tell the boys in front of her the truth. "Was it Malfoy?"

Layla snorted at that. "It's far more complicated than that," she said. "My life is an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a riddle," she said sardonically, then let out a giggle that sounded slightly mad, even to her own ears.

The four boys glanced at each other, not sure what to do next. Remus leaned forward in his seat, looking intently at Layla, then said, "Layla, isn't it?" She nodded, still not making eye contact with anyone as she stared, grinning, out the window. Bellatrix's mad cackle floated through her ears; Malfoy's smug grin and the Dark Mark on his arm illuminated by moonlight filled her mind's eye to the point she was oblivious to the scenery passing by her. "No one in this room would ever hurt you," Remus said quietly "In fact, we'd like to help you if we can."

A draft of air brushed Layla's face, making her shiver with cold and the sudden memory of Malfoy, kissing her cheek, lingering so close to her face, just the night before. Then her eyes caught the tiniest glimpse of her own black, wavy hair, and she flashed back to Bellatrix's wild dark curls engulfing her vision as the Death Eater's dagger ripped open and mutilated her left arm. Trembling, she unconsciously grabbed her left forearm and squeezed it tightly against the intense memory, forming new bruises on her own skin. Suddenly, James reached out and gently touched her hand on her arm. Layla flinched and squeaked, pulling away, her eyes inflamed by her tears. "Did Malfoy force you to take the Dark Mark?" James asked gently.

Layla shook her head hard, biting her lip to stop herself from screaming, drowning in her own mental anguish. Sirius said coldly, "Prove it. Show us your arm."

"No," Layla mumbled defiantly.

James said softly, "Layla, I won't hurt you." He tenderly reached forward and touched her sleeve hesitantly with the tips of his fingers. When he felt her violent tremble but no resistance, he undid the button on her wrist and slowly pushed her sleeve up. The word 'mudblood' burned red against her skin like a brand, the letters raised, interrupting the smoothness of her skin. James hissed at the sight of her arm, as though the word carved into her arm caused him as much pain as it did her. "Bloody hell," he murmured. A sob choked Layla, and her free right hand covered her mouth an instant later as the other three boys leaned in to get a better look at the scars. "Who —"

Layla shook her head before James could get out the sentence. "It's so complicated," Layla said bitterly.

"Why would the likes of Malfoy hang around with someone literally branded a mudblood?" Sirius asked, his tone still forceful, but no longer so unfeeling.

Layla groaned. "There's just so much information," she complained, rubbing at one of her temples with her free hand against a migraine developing there.

"Where are your parents?" Peter Pettigrew asked, drawing attention to himself for the first time.

Layla's eyes narrowed at Peter, bitter hatred boiling in her chest. She tasted bile again, and she swallowed the taste and the feeling, choosing to ignore him. She forced herself to look James in the face, and this time, rather than feeling betrayed that he was not the Boy Who Lived, she felt a sense of relief. This was Harry Potter's father, who had died at Voldemort's hand to protect his son. He, of all people, would believe her insane story. He, of all people, would keep her secret, just as he'd done for Remus Lupin with his lycanthropy. He, of all people, could be trusted. Malfoy was using her to gain some power he saw an advantage. Potter would protect her because she was an innocent victim — for the sake of justice alone and for nothing in return. No price to be paid. No other shoe to drop. "I'm not from America," she admitted quietly. "I was being tortured, and the Time Turner I was wearing broke. That was in 1997, and now I'm here. I was with Malfoy because I showed up in his house because that's where I was being tortured where the Time Turner broke. He seems to think that he's my dark knight now because he healed the wounds his future sister-in-law inflicted."

"My deranged cousin, Bellatrix LeStrange," Sirius said, not a hint of doubt in his voice.

Layla nodded, not looking at him. "I didn't have a wand until he bought me one and sent me back to school, always insisting that I would want to come back to him when school was over. I don't know…" Remus opened his mouth as though to say something, but he never had the chance to say anything at all when Layla broke down again, crying, "Please, I don't know anything. I don't know anything. I don't know anything." The phrase had become her personal mantra recently, she noticed, but it was true. Anything she knew was worthless, no matter what year it was.

"Shh, it's ok," James said softly, pulling Layla's sleeve back down and buttoning it again as she sobbed, completely broken inside. He smoothed the fabric over her scars, saying, "You don't have to know anything. You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to. It's over. It's all over. Hush, now." There was a soft rapping on the compartment door, and James whispered, "Moony, we have to go to the prefect meeting. Padfoot, can you take it from here?"

Sirius hesitated. "I-I don't know, Prongs…"

"You've got this," James said, standing up and letting go of Layla's arm, which fell limply to her lap. "We'll see you guys at the Welcome Feast."

Layla heard the door open and close, then it was just her, Peter, and Sirius. Sirius sighed then sat down next to her on the bench. She felt his fingers lightly brush her shoulder, and she was shocked when she found herself naturally leaning into the touch. More confident, he put an arm around her shoulders, and she settled closer, burying her tear-streaked face in his shoulder. He rested his chin on top of her dark hair, and she mumbled, "I've known all of you boys, by reputation at least. Lupin was one of my teachers. You're one of the good guys."

Layla didn't know why she'd said it, but she felt Sirius relax slightly under her. "Good to know," he said quietly. After a few moment's silence, he asked, "What house are you in?"

"Ravenclaw."

"What year?"

"Seventh, like you," she said quietly, her tears finally drying up as she sniffled.

Peter said cheerfully, the pep in his voice grating on Layla's ears, "Don't worry, Layla! Once the Welcome Feast is over, we can take you to Professor Dumbledore; he'll know how to help you. He always knows what to do."

Layla pressed her face harder against the firm muscle of Sirius's shoulder as the memory of Dumbledore lying dead on the ground below the Astronomy Tower pulsed through her mind. So many people she knew were going to die, and she was going to have to allow herself to become attached to them, let herself feel the grief and horror of each and every one of their deaths. She wasn't sure she could do it and survive the pain of it all. The door slid open again as a violent shudder of cold fear shot down her spine. Sirius rubbed her shoulder, warming her with friction, as an unfamiliar voice said quietly, "Oh, hey, Sirius."

Layla felt the Gryffindor tense under her as he said coldly, "Regulus."

Layla looked up at the unfamiliar name. Standing in the doorway was a younger boy, maybe fifth or sixth year, who looked quite a bit like Sirius Black, but he was a little shorter and thinner, though still quite handsome. Instinctively, Layla backed away from Sirius just as the younger boy said, "Umm, I'm here to meet Layla actually." Directing his words to Layla, he added, "Lucius Malfoy asked me to keep you company."

Sirius laughed. "Yeah, right," he sneered. "Run back to your Slytherins, little brother. Layla's already got friends."

Hesitating, Regulus continued to watch Layla, apparently waiting for her decision. Layla wasn't sure she'd ever even heard the name Regulus Black; she knew he wasn't around during her lifetime. If he was a Slytherin, though, she was certain he'd be just as entangled with Voldemort and the Death Eaters as his cousins, and she wanted nothing to do with that. Sighing, Layla said politely, "I've got plenty of company already, but thanks anyway. I'm sure Malfoy will understand."

Regulus frowned, but he turned and left without a word, closing the door behind him. For the rest of the train ride, Sirius somehow managed to captivate Layla's full attention with simple questions about her favorite things and wizarding card games until they arrived. James and Remus rejoined the group at the horseless carriages, but they weren't horseless to Layla anymore. The thestrals pulling the carriages were visible to the Ravenclaw girl for the first time, and the sight unnerved her. They reminded her of who she'd lost, and she struggled to hold herself together as Remus helped her into the carriage.

As she walked into the castle, however, a sense of relief and safety washed over her. The Welcome Feast forced Layla to separate from the Marauders, leaving her sitting alone and isolated at the Ravenclaw table. She watched the four boys during the course of the feast, amazed at how happy they seemed to be together. At one point, she accidentally locked eyes with Sirius Black. He grinned when he caught her staring, his grey eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, then he winked at her. She smiled shyly at him until he got distracted by James and looked away from her. As the crowd of students broke up after the feast, Layla struggled to force her way over to the Gryffindor table to rejoin the boys so that they could help her get to Professor Dumbledore's office. Instead, however, she was stopped halfway to the table by Regulus Black. "Excuse me," Layla mumbled, trying to push past him.

"Wait," Regulus said quickly, stepping into her path so she couldn't pass him. "I didn't get to introduce myself properly on the train. I'm Regulus Black. Your friend Malfoy is engaged to my cousin, Narcissa."

Half a smirk appeared on Layla's face. "I wouldn't expect that to last if I were you," she said, remembering Malfoy's own words about reevaluating his relationship with Narcissa Black.

Regulus frowned. "Oh… Well, anyway, I just wanted to introduce myself. You should know that even though I'm a year below you, you can always rely on me for anything you might need. Help finding your way around the castle, a friend to talk to, a study buddy. I'm here."

Layla scrutinized Regulus's face intently, searching for his intentions. Deciding that his motives seemed pure enough, she gave him a small smile. He didn't remind her in the least of his cousin Bellatrix, and she wondered absentmindedly if he had joined the Death Eaters like her, or if he had died young fighting against them like his brother Sirius. She'd never heard his name before the train ride, so she imagined that he must not have been considered a significant loss to either side of the first war. "Thank you," she said softly. "I appreciate that. If I ever need you, I'll come find you."

Regulus nodded, then a hand landed heavily on his shoulder, and he jumped slightly. Layla followed the hand with her eyes to find it attached to Sirius Black, who glowered at his brother. "Leave her alone," Sirius growled.

"You don't own her, Sirius," Regulus snapped back. "She can choose her own friends."

"Or Malfoy can choose them for her, you mean," Sirius said scornfully.

"Enough," Layla hissed. "Let's go, Black." When both boys gave her questioning looks, she clarified, "Sirius."

Sirius grinned triumphantly, and he allowed Layla to brush past him, following close behind her. The other three Gryffindor boys were waiting for them at the doors to the Entrance Hall, and together the five of them climbed the stairs to Dumbledore's office. Arriving at the door, Layla hesitated. It wasn't just not knowing the password that made her stop in her tracks; it was the idea that behind that door was a man she'd known for months was dead, who was now alive again. Her stomach churned at the thought, and she thought, not for the first time since she arrived in 1977, that she might be sick. When she stopped walking, Sirius slammed into her back, nearly knocking her over. He caught hold of her shoulder and steadied her, asking, "Whoa, hey there. What's wrong?"

Layla shook her head. "I just… Nothing. I'm nervous, I guess."

James turned back to her. "It'll be all right, Layla. Dumbledore's one of the good guys, remember?"

She nodded quickly. "Right."

James gave the password, and the stairway to Dumbledore's office was revealed. When they reached his office, the door was open. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his blue eyes twinkling bright and alive. Layla felt as though someone had knocked the wind out of her when Dumbledore said, "Miss Layla Danes, I presume. I thought you might come to see me tonight, although I'm surprised you brought so many friends."

Layla hesitated at his words, but then she felt a pair of hands (she couldn't be sure whose) on her back, gently compelling her forward until she found herself in a seat across from Dumbledore's desk. The old man stared at her over the frames of his half-moon glasses, his eyes curious and appraising, waiting for her to speak. When she didn't, James spoke for her. "You've got to keep Lucius Malfoy away from Layla, Professor Dumbledore. He's a Death Eater. He's violent and brutal and hates her. He tortures her!"

Layla corrected, "Actually, he's done nothing bad to me since I got here."

"Why don't you tell Professor Dumbledore where you came here from?" Sirius suggested, a hint of a smirk on his face.

Glaring at Sirius, Layla answered honestly, "Late September 1997. I can't be sure of the exact date because of the whole being held captive and tortured by Snatchers and Death Eaters thing, but it was around then."

Surprise flickered in Dumbledore's eyes. "You are a time traveler from the future?" he queried.

Nodding, Layla turned her eyes back to the headmaster. "Yes. A time turner I was wearing got broken and brought me all the way back here."

"May I see the time turner in question?" Dumbledore asked, frowning.

Automatically reaching for her pocket, Layla froze halfway through the motion as she remembered handing Malfoy the time turner in a sleep-deprived haze. "I-I gave it to Malfoy," she said quietly.

"Why on earth would you give something like that to Malfoy?" Remus asked, surprised.

"He wanted proof of my story," Layla said, exhausted. "I was so tired, so hungry, in so much pain… I couldn't… I wasn't… I didn't think…"

"Obviously," Sirius said with a chuckle. James elbowed him hard in the gut, and he grunted, then stayed silent.

"Well, I must say, this is quite a story you've told me," Professor Dumbledore said dismissively. Layla caught a small spark of disparaging amusement in his voice, and she knew what was happening. He had weighed her words and found them to be a fanciful tale from a young girl rather than the truth.

"You don't believe me," Layla surmised.

The professor smiled. "Would you believe such a story on the word of a child if you were in my shoes?"

"I would," Layla countered. "But that's neither here nor there. What else can I do to prove I'm telling the truth?"

Dumbledore gave her a smile that made Layla shiver; it reminded her of the way that Malfoy had sometimes smiled at her since she arrived in his home — like she was a weapon whose strength was about to be tested. It unnerved her to say the least. "Well, you could always tell me the same story again under the influence of Veritaserum," he said casually.

"That's illegal," James said, his shock leaking into his voice.

"She does not have to take the potion, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said indifferently, creating a steeple with his fingertips as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his desk. "But I do have Veritaserum in my desk, and Miss Danes may take a few drops of the serum if she would like to prove her story to my satisfaction."

"What about the scars on her arm?" James demanded. "Merlin's beard, it's not as though she would have carved the word 'mudblood' into her own arm!"

"Give me the potion," Layla said, a hard edge to her voice.

As Dumbledore removed the potion from his desk, Sirius said quietly, "You don't have to do this, you know."

Layla glanced at the boy with black curls, surprised that he was taking her side. "I know," she said softly as Dumbledore handed her a small vial of clear liquid. "But I'm tired of fighting for every little thing, and if this is the easiest way to get me in a safe place again, so be it." Dumbledore transfigured a piece of paper into a teacup, and Layla dripped a small amount of potion into it and handed the main bottle back to Dumbledore. She tossed the potion back like a shot of alcohol, and a moment later, she began to feel the effects. "My name is Layla Emerson, I'm a seventh year Ravenclaw, and a broken time turner brought me twenty years into the past. I'm stranded and stuck living with Lucius Malfoy and totally alone and scared, and I just want to go home."

Feeling a hand squeeze her shoulder, Layla looked up and found Remus standing behind her, giving her a small reassuring smile. It occurred to her then that he might understand the feeling of being stuck alone with a monster and being afraid of what might happen next. Professor Dumbledore said, "It's extremely unlikely that you'll ever be able to return to your original time, Miss Danes, particularly without the time turner that brought you here. Even if you managed it, I seriously doubt that the future you returned to would be the same."

Unable to stop the outpouring of words from her own mouth, Layla never looked away from Remus's compassionate green eyes as she said, "I know you're a werewolf, Professor Lupin." Face filling with horror, Remus let go of her shoulder and backed away from her. Realizing what she'd said, Layla scrambled, "Oh, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say all that; it's just… With the dementors all around that year, I was such a mess, and you…" Layla's face grew brighter red the longer she spoke. "I shouldn't be telling you all this; I'm sorry. It's just that I don't care that you're a werewolf because you're one of the kindest, best people I've ever met…" She trailed off then, unable to bear the mixed emotions on Remus's face anymore and hid her face in her hands, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood to force herself to stop talking.

Layla could feel everyone in the room staring at her, and she tried even harder to hide from their prying eyes, to no avail. She heard Dumbledore clear his throat as though about to speak, but then Remus's voice cut the tension in the air like a knife. "I was a professor?"

"Yes," Layla mumbled, refusing to move from her attempt at hiding in her own lap. "Defense Against the Dark Arts, my third year. The school was surrounded by dementors because S—" she barely stopped herself in time to keep from saying the name, but only just. "Because a supposed mass murderer escaped Azkaban and was trying to break into the castle. Even with all that distance, I still felt cold and…" She paused, taking in a ragged deep breath. "You saw how bad I felt, and you helped me. Then when Snape told the whole school you were a werewolf at the end of the year and you quit, I was so angry. I couldn't believe he'd do that to you, and then you were just gone. I —" Layla cut herself off again, jumping at the sudden feeling of a hand on her shoulder blade.

"I'm glad I was able to help you," Remus said, his voice a bit choked in his throat. "But I don't think I want to hear anything more about my future self."

For some reason, that comment struck Layla as funny, and she laughed a bit. "If you think your story is bad, then none of the rest of you want to know what happened to you by the time my time turner broke. Lupin was the only one with a happy ending."

"Mr. Lupin, Mr. Black, Mr. Pettigrew, Mr. Potter. I do believe it is time that Miss Danes and I had a word alone," Dumbledore said firmly.

"No bloody way," James snapped. "She's just a kid, technically younger than any of us, and under the influence of Veritaserum, no less. It's not right for any of us to be totally alone with her right now. I'm staying right here until she leaves." Layla chanced a glance up at the faces around her. James was glaring at Professor Dumbledore, who stared back with his usual calm, collected gaze. Remus wasn't looking at her anymore; instead, he was facing a wall as Peter patted his shoulder and watched his friend worriedly. Sirius's keen gray eyes were watching Layla intently, scrutinizing her every word. "She shouldn't even have taken the Veritaserum in the first place," James said. "Veritaserum is most effective on the unsuspecting and the vulnerable, and clearly it's working well enough on her. She's too vulnerable to be forced to spill all her darkest secrets to you right now."

"I believe that is for Miss Danes to decide," Dumbledore said authoritatively. "It may be that she knows something from the future that is key to defeating Voldemort, and there would be no better time to ask her about it than now."

"Well, let's ask her then," James said. "Layla, do you know anything that would help us defeat Voldemort?"

"There's a Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets that's still alive right now," Layla rushed, unsure how the information was relevant. "Only the heir of Slytherin can control it, and that's Voldemort, but Harry Potter killed it my second year with the sword of Gryffindor when a diary of Tom Riddle's possessed Ginny Weasley and nearly resurrected Voldemort. But Harry stabbed the diary with a Basilisk fang and killed the memory of Tom Riddle living in it and saved Ginny."

"Harry – Potter?" James asked slowly. "Is he – my son?" Layla nodded. "Wow. How was he when you last saw him?" James asked eagerly, suddenly excited about the idea of a son.

"He…" Layla hesitated. "He never knew you, you know," she said, hoping to spare him some of the false hope for his future. "You died when he was just a year old." James's face fell. "Voldemort murdered you and your wife."

"But… Harry…" James whispered.

Layla caught James's hand and gave it a squeeze, worried that she'd gone too far. "He loved you to death. His patronus was the same as yours, apparently. He thought the world of you and his mother, and he missed you dreadfully. Last I knew, he was healthy, but in hiding from Voldemort because he'd come back to power and taken over Hogwarts and the Ministry. I don't know where he was or what he was doing, I just know that he loved you and Sirius Black and Lupin more than anyone."

"Enough," Sirius said suddenly. Everyone's attention turned to him as he continued, "That's enough. We don't need to hear anymore tonight, if ever. Dumbledore, I'm guessing that's all she knows about defeating Voldemort, right Layla?" Layla nodded quickly. "Right. Then that's enough. It's time to give her the antidote and put her to bed, I think. Let her sleep somewhere safe for the first time in Merlin knows how long." Without waiting for a response from the others, Sirius took Layla's hand from James, who was too stunned by Layla's words to hardly notice, and led her from the office. They'd made it up the first flight of stairs when Sirius said, "I don't want to know what happens to me. I can guess that I'll probably die young too if James did, and he's the most responsible of the four of us. But I don't want to know how or when all right?"

"All right." They walked in silence up to another floor, then Layla asked, "Where are we going?"

"You're a Ravenclaw, right? So Ravenclaw tower," Sirius answered simply.

Layla looked back over her shoulder at the empty corridor behind her. "This isn't the right way to Ravenclaw tower," she said curiously as Sirius pulled her into a secret corridor.

"Isn't the entrance on the same floor as Gryffindor tower?" Sirius asked. Layla nodded. "Well, then we're going the right way." His voice echoed through the dark, cold stone passage.

After a few minutes hesitation, Layla whispered, "Sirius?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't want to be alone with a bunch of strangers. Not tonight," she breathed, suddenly stopping in the middle of the corridor, forcing Sirius to stop with her.

Sirius watched her curiously. "Well, where else are you going to go?" Sirius asked, annoyed. "It's not as though you actually know anyone here. I mean, you only know Remus personally, and he's hardly the same person now as who you would've known, so many years passing, he must've changed when he became an adult."

"I knew you a little," Layla admitted. "Not very long at all, and mostly just by reputation, well, two very different reputations, really, but I…" Layla forced herself to stop and breathe to keep herself from telling him about the future he hadn't wanted to know about, pulling her hand from his and crossing her arms over her chest. "I know you, a bit, is all."

Eyebrows furrowing, Sirius said, "Are you saying you want to stay with me?"

Face burning, Layla looked away from Sirius, not willing to meet his gaze anymore. "Well, I… yes. I wouldn't ask, but this bloody Veritaserum is making me," she confessed. "I can't seem to shut up, every little thing that passes through my head has to come out my mouth, and I can't filter any of it no matter how hard I try, I'm just…"

"Too tired," Sirius finished for her. "You're exhausted, too much so to fight anything, much less your own thoughts. It's too painful, trying to hold in the words."

Tilting her head, Layla looked at Sirius curiously. "Yes. How did you know?"

Sirius stayed silent, pulling her hand free of her crossed arms and forcing her to start walking again, leading her further down the corridor until they almost reached the door at the end of the hall. Finally, he said quietly, "My parents used to put me under Veritaserum every year when I came home for the summer holidays. Mother, she'd… she'd force me to tell her just how much of a blood traitor I'd been that school year so that she could spend the summer punishing me appropriately. Every year, the punishments got worse, but with practice, the Veritaserum got easier to resist. Of course, by the time I left that old bat's house, I could easily resist the potion altogether, I just didn't want to. I enjoyed watching her get more and more pissed every time I told her what new sins I'd committed against her precious family name that year. This past summer, I lied to her and told her I'd gotten a Muggleborn girl pregnant. It wasn't true, of course, but Mother's head nearly exploded, and I laughed even after she cursed me. But then a week later she brought over my cousin Bellatrix, and they were going to force me to take the Dark Mark, and…" Sirius paused. "I cursed them, and Dad too when he tried to stop me, and I packed my things. Regulus — Regulus begged me to stay, and I begged him to come with me, and, well… you saw how that turned out."

"I'm so sorry," Layla whispered as they stepped out onto the seventh floor, leaving her bewildered as to how they'd gotten there when they had entered the corridor on the fifth floor.

Sirius shrugged as he pulled her around a corner. "It's fine. It's ancient history. I've been living with James and his parents for the summer, and they're wonderful. I could care less what happens in that horrible house anymore."

"I can't believe you really don't care what happens to Regulus anymore," Layla said, surprised. "I mean, he's your brother, and has he really done anything to make you stop caring about him? I didn't think he seemed so bad —"

Sirius stopped then, pushing Layla against a wall with just enough force to take her breath away, but not enough to hurt her. She gasped as he said, "Layla, do me a favor. Shut up about my bloody brother."

Layla watched his forceful gray eyes, her chest heaving with anticipation, although anticipation of what, she wasn't entirely sure. His gaze pierced her and left her chest aching. His eyes burned her soul. "Ok," she breathed. Her heart pounded in her throat and ears as a question escaped her against her will. "Have you ever had sex with anyone?"

Sirius seemed surprised for a moment, then he chuckled, stepping in closer to her. "Why do you ask?" he taunted as he brushed the backs of his fingers down her flaming red cheek.

Swallowing hard, Layla answered, more honestly than she'd ever wanted to, "Snatchers took my virginity, and I… It was bloody awful. But you… you're… you're making me curious."

"Curious?" Sirius teased. "Curious about sex? Sex with me, maybe?" Flushing, Layla could only nod, her throat too tight to trust her own voice. "What about your boyfriend Malfoy? Can't he show you what sex is supposed to be like?" Sirius asked as he ghosted the tips of his fingers over her hip bone. Her breath hitched, and she shook her head hard, feeling nauseous at the thought of Lucius Malfoy touching her in any way. "Why not, sweetheart? Can't stand the thought of your own boyfriend touching you?"

Layla growled, "Malfoy is not my boyfriend."

Laughing softly, Sirius said, "Right, right. Of course, he's not."

"You never answered my question," Layla pointed out, her hand, which was still entangled with one of his, trembling from the rush of hormones flooding her.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as Sirius grinned, then said, "It may surprise you to learn, but no, I've never had sex with anyone before. Remus has though. You obviously like him a lot, so perhaps he should be the one to sate your curiosity instead."

Layla shook her head. "N-no, I couldn't…"

"What's wrong?" Sirius laughed. "Sounded to me like you were looking for someone more experienced to show you what a good shag can really be. That's certainly not me — at least, not the more experienced part, anyway."

Embarrassed, Layla pushed away from the wall and past Sirius, but he caught her by the arm and stopped her. "Oh, shove off," Layla said heatedly. "I don't… you… just shove off."

Pulling her back to him, Sirius grinned at her. "I'm only teasing," he said more gently. "What exactly are you so curious about, hmm?"

Their chests bumped against each other, and Layla felt her stomach tighten as she answered, barely audible, "You're just so much more handsome than… than I expected. I didn't exactly see you hardly."

Stifling a laugh, Sirius said, "I have been told that I'm a good-looking bloke before, yeah. So?"

"So," Layla huffed, growing more and more frustrated by the second. "So, you're just very handsome and strong and… you're the only person I know stays single later on that I'm sure I can trust with my life, and…"

"Stop," Sirius said sharply, and Layla halted, struggling to hold in the flow of words. He placed both hands on her shoulders and instructed, "Don't speak anymore; just take a slow, deep breath." Layla obeyed, though her breath came ragged and hot. She let it out just as slowly, her whole body shaking with excitement. "So the point is that I'm hot, single, and you trust me?" Layla stared down at her shoes and nodded. Sirius took her hand again. "You said you didn't want to be alone tonight, right?" Layla nodded again. "Ok, then come with me."

He tugged her along the corridor and around another corner until they reached a portrait of a lady in a pink dress. The Fat Lady asked, "Password?"

"Fortuna major," Sirius said, and the portrait swung open to reveal a brilliant red common room.

Layla hesitated a moment, then followed Sirius through the portrait hole and into the deserted corridor. He led her up a set of stairs to the left, and at the top of the flight, he pulled her into the room immediately to the left. He turned back to her as he walked towards one of the beds in the dark room and held a finger to his grinning lips. Layla whispered, "But the other boys…"

"Doesn't look like they're even back from Dumbledore's office yet, and it's just us four in here. Since you don't want to be alone and you're so incredibly curious about me, I thought you might like to stay the night here with me in my bed."

Layla smiled slightly. "Umm, yeah, ok," she said, growing jittery as Sirius pulled her in close, their faces centimeters apart.

"You can say no at any time," Sirius said, his voice low and husky. "I'll stop whenever you say so." Layla nodded, icy cold fear suddenly clawing at her chest. Seeming to sense the change in her mood, Sirius breathed in her ear, "Don't be scared. I won't hurt you."

Sirius leaned in and kissed her then, his lips soft and gentle against hers. Layla stopped breathing altogether for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of memories of her time held hostage by the Snatchers. She kissed him back hard, rough and demanding, trying her best to drown herself in the sensation of kissing him until she couldn't think of anything else. Sirius took the cue from her and matched her movements, pulling her with him as he walked backward until they both fell back onto his bed, Layla on top. He pulled his lips away from hers, kissing, nipping, and licking his way across her jawline and down her neck, pushing them up enough that he could sit upright, leaving her straddling his lap whimpering with need. She felt him hard in his trousers under her skirt, and more memories of the Snatchers began to buzz around in her head. She felt Sirius pulling the bed curtains closed behind her, and she untied her Ravenclaw tie. Sirius grabbed both ends of the tie and pulled her in closer to kiss her again, nipping at her lower lip and making Layla gasp. She moaned softly as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, and she tangled her fingers in his short black curls and tugged, making him moan as well. She grinned at the sound; it was so different than the sounds that the Snatchers had made when they'd forced themselves on her, and she couldn't help but love the feeling of triumph that pulling such wicked noises from him gave her.

Suddenly, he lifted her from where her hips had unconsciously begun to rub against his lap, tossing her easily down onto the bed and climbing on top of her. His hand found her inner thigh, and his fingers danced across the exposed skin there, and she made a soft keening sound in her throat. Even in the darkness, Layla could see Sirius grinning at her as his fingers slowly moved up her leg until they were just centimeters away from where she most wanted him to be. She grabbed his hair again and pulled his face down to kiss her lips again, and when he started to touch her through her soaked panties she squealed into his mouth. Sirius chuckled at her reaction, hungrily swallowing the sound as he rubbed her more until she was a moaning, quivering, unintelligible mess. He stopped, making her whine with frustration, and after only a moment's hesitation, dipped his fingers beneath her panties and easily found her swollen clit and began to stroke it slowly, making her moan loudly with delight. Pulling his wand from his trouser pocket, he waved it to cast a silencing spell so that none of their sounds could escape the closed bed curtains, then returned his focus to the Ravenclaw girl beneath his fingers. Teasingly, he worked his fingers down from her clit to the ultimate source of her need, moving lightly around it until she growled with frustration, "Sirius, _please_."

Sirius shivered at her words. "Merlin," he swore. "I bloody love the way my name sounds when you say it like that." He leaned down and kissed her hard and fast, never ending his teasing ways. "Say it again," he demanded as he released her mouth, leaving her struggling to breathe.

"Sirius," she whimpered, and he rewarded her by pressing lightly with the tip of his finger against her slick entrance without actually entering her.

Sirius hummed in approval. He nipped at her earlobe and whispered, "Again." Layla squirmed under his touch, but she stayed silent, too overwhelmed and desperate to speak. When she said nothing, Sirius removed his hand from her panties altogether. She whined at the loss, and Sirius laughed softly. "Naughty little minx," he taunted. "Say my name again, kitten, and I promise I'll shag you senseless."

Breath ragged, Layla keened, "Sirius… Black…" He moaned and shuddered at the sound of his name, then pulled her closer, ripping open her shirt and popping the buttons off it, making her giggle breathily. He yanked her skirt and panties off as she unhooked her bra and removed it. She grabbed his Gryffindor tie and used it as leverage to force him down to her, recapturing his swollen red lips in hers and forcing her tongue into his mouth, relishing the taste of him as their tongues battled for control of the kiss. When they broke apart, Sirius murmured, "Bloody hell, Layla."

Layla grinned as she untied his tie and threw it on the floor, followed quickly by his shirt and trousers, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. She stared at his toned muscular chest in appreciation for a moment, then he started to remove his boxers, and a sense of panic began to claw at Layla's heart. Her lungs began to freeze in her chest, and she gasped, "Sirius."

He noticed the change in her tone and stopped moving before his boxers came off all the way, leaving her a wondrous view of the skin just below his waistline. "What's wrong?" he said huskily, breathing heavily. Layla hesitated, suddenly cold as ice, folding her arms across her naked chest. He watched her for a moment, then laid down beside her, pulling her into his arms and hugging her to his chest. "What's wrong, kitten?" he whispered in her ear.

"Sn-Snatchers," Layla mumbled. "In my head, all I can think about…"

Sirius let his fingertips wander and dance up and down Layla's spine soothingly. "It's all right," Sirius shushed her. "Those people are gone. You'll never see them again. Let me make you forget about all that."

His fingers gently rubbed her hip bone in slow, soothing circles. He slowly pulled her legs open again, watching her for any signs of resistance, and when she gave none, he dipped his fingers into her wet center and slowly pushed one inside her. She squealed at the intrusion, and he panicked and started to leave her, but she grabbed hold of his arm and held him in place. She begged, "No, don't stop. Please."

Breathing a small sigh of relief, Sirius began to pump his finger in and out of her agonizingly slowly until he had her hips bucking for more friction. Then he pulled out altogether, and Layla whined impatiently. "Shush, now," he teased, pulling his boxers off and allowing his erection to spring free. He stroked her clit again until she was mewling, and he settled between her legs, his tip pressed against her hot opening, making them both shiver. Sirius leaned down and kissed the sweat off the tip of her nose. "May I —" Sirius began, but Layla impatiently captured his lips with hers then reached between them and grabbed him, pumping her hand up and down tightly. Sirius groaned loudly, breaking the kiss and letting his head lull forward. He rested his forehead against her shoulder as he breathed roughly in her ear. He kissed her cheek rather sloppily, then reached down between them and took hold of his erection as well, and together they guided him slowly into her entrance. Layla quickly let go of him as he penetrated her in favor of grabbing onto his shoulders, digging her nails into him as she whimpered at the sensations. "Fuck, you're tight, Layla," Sirius gasped as he buried himself to the hilt in her heat.

Sirius pulled slowly back out, then thrust hard into her again, quickly refilling her and making her scream. She wrapped her arms as tightly as she could around his broad shoulders and dragged her nails across the skin of his back until he bled. He shuddered under her hands and began to thrust wildly into her, uncontrolled, until the only coherent word she could say was his name, over and over again like a prayer. When he suddenly hit her sweet spot, the first time any man ever had, she gasped as stars filled the edges of her vision. She bit down on his shoulder muscle to try to stop herself from blowing out his eardrums and panted, "Bloody hell, Sirius Black. Oooh, fuck…"

Sirius grinned as he breathed hard in time with his thrusts, one hand holding him up enough that he wasn't crushing her, the other cupping her face. "You dirty thing," he teased. "Such naughty language."

"Your – fault…" she accused, annoyed that she was falling apart at the seams while he was still so coherent.

He chuckled. "True enough," Sirius said, thrusting and hitting that perfect place inside her again that made her writhe and scream underneath him. "Fuck," he growled in her ear as he felt her insides flutter and tighten around him. "You feel so bloody good," he whispered. "But now I want to feel you cum around me. I want you to cum absolutely bloody screaming my name so loud they hear you down in the Slytherin dungeon." Layla whimpered, clawing at his chest in a desperate attempt to grab onto something as he hit her sweet spot over and over and over again. Just as she took hold of his wrists, Sirius breathed in her ear, "What are you waiting for, Layla? Cum for me."

Sirius thrust into her again, and the tension pooling in her belly suddenly broke. Layla buried her face in his shoulder, shrieking his name, her insides clamping down on him as he thrust into her two more times before following her over the edge, groaning her name. They collapsed onto his mess of a bed in a tangled heap, Sirius still inside her. After a few minutes, Sirius pulled himself completely out of her, kissing her cheek. She mumbled, "That was incredible. I had no idea it could feel like that."

Laughing, Sirius replied, "Neither did I. But I think I'm off to a bloody good start at this whole sex thing, wouldn't you?"

Layla giggled, "Oh yes, definitely so."

He smirked at her. "Good. Now, you should go to sleep, kitten. Don't want you to sleep through breakfast because you stayed up too late."

Snorting, Layla said, "Well, what a surprise. I wouldn't have pictured you as the caring, sleep-over-after-sex, take-care-of-the-girl sort, Sirius Black."

"Well, it's like you said, darling," he drawled. "You never exactly knew me properly, did you? And I was twenty years or so older than you. It's not as though you'd have been thinking about what sort of sex partner I'd be in the first place."

"Fair enough," Layla said softly, settling down in bed as he pulled the covers over their naked bodies. Using his strong chest as a pillow, she closed her eyes and desperately tried to hold on to the feeling of being safe and loved in the afterglow of sex. However, it faded quickly, and she soon opened her eyes again. She looked up at Sirius in the dark to see him lying there with his eyes shut, a contented smile lingering on his lips. "Are you still awake?" she whispered.

"Hmm, only just," he mumbled.

"Oh, sorry," Layla said, her face heating with embarrassment.

He shifted as she started to hide her face under the blankets, catching her face with one hand and wrapping his other arm tightly around her waist. "Hmm, don't hide from me now," he said, his voice thick with sleep as he opened his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Layla shrugged. When he didn't stop waiting for an answer, she finally said, "Just bad memories."

Sirius frowned at that. He stroked her hair soothingly as he said, "Don't think about that stuff now. Just think about me, kitten. Think about the wonderful time we had tonight, yeah?"

Layla nodded against his chest. "Yeah."

Sirius kissed the top of her head. "Push it out of your mind, darling. Focus on how good we felt together, all right? Here," he searched the bed with one hand for a moment, pausing to give Layla's arse a quick squeeze that made her squeak in surprise and him laugh, before he found his wand, giving it a wave and muttering something under his breath. A potion flew into the bed and into Sirius's hand. He handed it to her and explained, "Dreamless sleep potion. It'll help. No nightmares tonight for you. Just dream of me and the way I made you feel tonight, all right?" Layla drank the potion gratefully and without question. "Has the Veritaserum worn off yet?" Sirius asked.

After a moment of thought, Layla answered, "Yes, I think so."

"Good." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Go to sleep, darling." She nodded, and closed her eyes and laid her head down on his chest again. He continued to stroke her hair until she was suddenly, blissfully asleep.


	3. Chapter 3: Kiss with a Fist

_I broke your jaw once before; I spilled your blood upon the floor. You broke my leg in return, so sit back and watch the bed burn. Love sticks; sweat drips; break the lock if it don't fit. A kick in the teeth is good for some; a kiss with a fist is better than none. — Florence and the Machine_

* * *

 **September 2, 1977**

Layla groaned as she woke, burying her face in the pillow against the light. A hand stroked her hair soothingly as a husky voice whispered in her ear, "Come on, darling. We're going to miss breakfast if you don't get up."

Layla took a deep breath, her lungs filling with the smells of cologne, sex, sweat, and — was that a hint of stale cigarettes? She was too sleepy still to be sure. "I don't want breakfast," she grumbled, still not entirely aware of who she was talking to.

She heard a chuckle and felt her pillow vibrate with the sound of it as she became more alert. "Yes, but you need breakfast, and I certainly do. I can't get out of bed until you get off me, though, so get up." She shook her head, closing her eyes tighter. Suddenly the hand caressing her hair gripped her hair tightly, tugging her face up. She gasped, then lips were on hers. His tongue stroked hers for a moment, then they broke apart. Layla's eyes flew open as she panted for breath and tried to lean back in to recapture Sirius's lips, but he held her back easily by her wavy black hair, smirking at her eagerness. "You awake now?" he teased.

Layla nodded, her breathing still a bit ragged. "Incredibly awake," she mumbled breathlessly.

"Good." Sirius leaned in and gave her a chaste peck on the nose. "Breakfast," he said, his gray eyes sparkling with mischief.

Sirius left the bed, disappearing behind the bed curtains. Layla sighed as she threw the random t-shirt she found in his bed over her head to fight the chill of the morning, following after him saying, "Oh, no you don't, Black; get back here and —" She stopped suddenly and gasped when she brushed the curtain back and found herself facing James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.

Pettigrew squeaked in surprise and dashed away, grabbing his bag and racing out the door. A lustful glint flashed in Remus's eyes for a moment before he forced his eyes away, busying himself with collecting his books, but James glowered at Sirius, who was disappearing into the bathroom laughing. Layla remained frozen in horror, bare legs dangling from the edge of the bed, her face as red as the bed curtains. She could hear Sirius still laughing as James called, "Sirius Orion Black, explain yourself."

Sirius re-entered the room wearing his trousers, throwing a clean white shirt over his shoulders. "Layla slept over last night," he said with a shrug and a smirk.

James groaned. "Sirius, you were the one who insisted she needed to sleep off the Veritaserum last night. What the bloody hell happened between Dumbledore's office and Ravenclaw tower that you two somehow ended up in bed together?"

"Veritaserum happened," Layla mumbled as she remembered the previous night.

James frowned. "What?"

Chuckling, Sirius explained, "The Veritaserum made her very brave and, well, horny."

"Sirius!" Layla gasped, pulling the blankets off the bed and burying her face in them.

Remus looked up then, startled. "Did you have sex with her, Sirius?"

Sirius grinned, leaning down and giving Layla a kiss on the top of her head as he picked up his Gryffindor tie from next to her on the bed. His gray eyes caught her blue ones full attention, and for a moment, it was just the two of them alone in that space. Layla couldn't help herself in that moment, reaching out and grasping Sirius's hair near the base of his skull and pulling him down to her, their lips clashing violently. She felt his free hand slide between her shoulder blades and pull her flush against his chest, forcing her back to arch. Sirius's tongue found its way into her mouth again and traced the underside of her tongue, making Layla shiver and whimper in the most delightful way. "All right, all right. Enough. We get it; you two shagged," James said with an annoyed flick of his wand, forcing air between them until they were no longer touching each other and panting for breath. "We don't want to hear or see any more about it. Just get to breakfast already, the both of you."

"Prongs, come on," Sirius said, growing more solemn.

James shook his head, slinging his bag violently over his shoulder before storming out of the room. Sirius turned to Remus, but the werewolf was shaking his head as well. "You really messed up this time, Sirius," Remus said quietly, almost angrily, before he followed James out of the room and down the stairs as well.

Frowning, Layla didn't know quite what to make of the situation until suddenly Sirius was handing her clothes. "Get dressed; go get some food," he said quietly, all the spark drained from his voice.

Layla took the clothes shoved into her hands and quickly began to dress. As she tied the tie he'd handed her around her neck, Layla said softly, "But… Sirius… I mean…"

"Just go, Layla," Sirius snapped abruptly, his sudden temper startling Layla into obedience.

Layla grabbed her wand from where Sirius had placed it on the nightstand the night before and ran as fast as she could out of the room, out of Gryffindor, and down to the Great Hall, where she collapsed on one of the benches at the empty end of the Ravenclaw table, the only one of the four house tables to be mostly deserted. Layla knew that was normal for the time of day, though. Ravenclaws all either got up ridiculously early and had breakfast, or slept so late that they missed it altogether. Layla used to belong to the ridiculously early crowd, though she had a feeling that this year she'd more often than not find herself mixing with the crowd of Ravenclaws who were eating waffles for lunch because they'd slept through breakfast. Layla started to help herself to some breakfast, but then she realized she felt more sick and upset than hungry. Instead, she waved her wand, summoning her messenger bag full of schoolbooks from her dormitory, giggling slightly when it came flying into the Great Hall, knocking over a couple Slytherin first years on its way. She held on tightly to the bag when it landed in her lap simply for the feeling of holding onto something as she bit her lip, tears stinging her eyes. A sense of absolute rejection had taken hold in the pit of her stomach, and she absolutely hated it. It got even worse when she spotted Sirius joining the other three Marauders at the Gryffindor table. None of them seemed particularly happy with each other, but that didn't make it any easier for Layla when Sirius locked eyes with her across the hall, then looked away without any form of acknowledgment. Layla was just about to run from the Great Hall when suddenly Regulus sat down next to her. Layla quickly stared down at her empty plate as he said, "Hi, Layla. How are you this morning?"

Sniffing, Layla said, "I'm fine."

She felt Regulus watching her intently. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Layla mumbled, shaking her head, refusing to meet his gaze.

Regulus took a fork and stabbed a stack of waffles with it, dropping them onto the plate in front of Layla. "Eat," he commanded, shoving the fork into her hand. Sighing, Layla poured maple syrup on the waffles and took a few scant bites of it. Finally, he pressed, "What'd my brother do now?"

Layla frowned, pausing with her fork halfway to her mouth. "What makes you think that your brother did anything?"

Regulus snorted. "The fact that you're wearing his tie instead of yours might have been a tip-off. Unless, of course, you're going to surprise me by telling me that it was one of his friends instead."

Groaning, Layla's chin fell to her chest, eyes widening when she saw the red and gold tie around her neck. "Oh, Merlin," she moaned. "Do you think anyone else has noticed?"

Regulus shrugged. "Well, I'm sure Sirius did, but he's a git, so naturally, he wouldn't say anything about it. It's just the sort of thing he'd find hilarious. So, what happened between you two?"

After a moment of hesitation, Layla admitted quietly, "I slept with him. I'm not entirely sure how things spiraled so far out of control. One minute, he's walking me to my dorm, then the next we're in his instead and things got very heated very quickly and…"

"Yeah, all right, I get the picture," Regulus said, scrunching up his nose. "I don't exactly want a play by play of my brother's sex life. But here, I can do this at least." He muttered something under his breath and tapped her tie with his wand. Instantly, the red and gold deepened and twisted until the tie was blue and bronze instead. "At least now no one will be able to tell it's not yours, and you won't have to give it back to the git," Regulus said with a smirk.

Layla smiled a little at that, resuming eating her waffles. "Thanks," she mumbled.

"You're welcome," Regulus said cheerfully, picking up another fork and stealing a bite of Layla's waffles.

Chuckling, Layla said, "Why are you here, anyway? You don't have to sit here with me. Why not sit at your own table?"

Regulus shrugged. "I happen to like you," he said, pilfering another bite of her waffles after Layla hadn't resisted the first theft. "Besides, Lucius asked me to be your friend, remember? So, I'm being your friend."

Layla thought for a moment as Regulus continued to eat her waffles for her. She watched him curiously; she noticed for the first time that his eyes were the deepest shade of brown, bordering on black, unlike Sirius's light gray eyes. His face was much more emotionally guarded than Sirius's open, easily read expressions. It made Layla wonder exactly what secrets he was keeping so close to the chest. Finally, she nodded. "I think you'll make a very good friend," she decided.

Regulus paused mid-bite for a moment, then swallowed. His eyes went to Layla for a moment as she took the last bite from her plate and ate it. He seemed as though he were about to say something, but then Professor Flitwick appeared between them, holding a piece of paper out to Layla. "Here you are, Miss Danes, your class schedule," Flitwick squeaked. "Welcome to my house, by the way. Despite not getting to watch you grow up in my house like the rest of my students, I'm still quite proud of the grades that you've made, and I look forward to seeing how you flourish in your N.E.W.T. classes while living in Ravenclaw tower."

"Thank you, Professor Flitwick," Layla said, quickly taking her class schedule from the short man.

Noticing Regulus for the first time, Flitwick piped, "Why, Mr. Black! Whatever are you doing at my house's table?"

Regulus smirked slightly at Layla before answering the teacher, "Just being friendly, sir."

Flitwick nodded. "Yes, yes, very good, but Professor Slughorn will be looking for you! He's over at the Slytherin table right now handing out class schedules! It wouldn't do for you to miss your classes."

Regulus gave the small Charms professor his most charming smile. "Don't worry, Professor. I'll be sure to get it from him straight away."

"Excellent," Flitwick said excitedly. "Well, I'll be off, more schedules to give out. I'll see you both in class!"

With that, Flitwick scurried on down the table to speak with other students. Regulus snickered, "What an odd little man."

"I like him," Layla said, silencing Regulus's laughter. She looked down at her schedule, Regulus reading over her shoulder. Her first class that day was Defense Against the Dark Arts. "I'd better go to class before I'm late," Layla said, picking up her bag from her lap and tossing it over her shoulder.

"Maybe you'd care to sit with me at my table for lunch?" Regulus asked.

Layla stopped as she stood, thinking for a moment. She shook her head. "You can join me if you like, but I don't think I'll ever want anything to do with your Slytherin friends, truthfully."

Regulus nodded slowly, thinking, and she quickly walked away, leaving the Great Hall and heading straight to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. The room was full of students, all seventh years like herself from all four houses, but the professor was nowhere to be seen. Layla sat down at an empty desk with a heavy sigh, dropping her bag to the floor. She was finally beginning to feel the effects of not getting enough sleep the night before, in addition to all the sore and strangely stretched muscles that only sex ever used. The soreness left flashes of the Snatchers that held her captive, their own personal sex slave, flickering across her eyelids every time she blinked as she took her defense book from her bag. As she set the book on the desk, a pair of hands and a Slytherin tie appeared in her vision as someone leaned on her desk. Layla looked up and saw a young man with short dark hair and dark eyes smiling charmingly down at her. "Hello," he said. "I'm Rabastan LeStrange."

Layla shivered slightly as she recognized the name of Bellatrix LeStrange's brother-in-law, one of the Death Eaters that escaped Azkaban her fifth year and one of the Death Eaters that she knew had helped Bellatrix torture her friend Neville Longbottom's parents into insanity. "Layla Danes," she said simply, too afraid of the Slytherin in front of her to say more.

"Yes, my friend Lucius Malfoy told me all about you," Rabastan said with a grin. "Asked me to look after you and make sure you don't get into any trouble. Of course, based on the colors of your tie this morning at breakfast, I suppose you've already been up to all sorts of naughty things, haven't you, dearie?"

Face reddening, Layla glanced down at Sirius's now blue and bronze tie, then growled, "Shut up, LeStrange."

"Hey, leave her alone." Sirius's voice came from behind her seat, forcing Layla to turn around to see him. "She doesn't want anything to do with your lot, LeStrange."

Rabastan chuckled. "Blood traitor Black," he sneered. "You here to defend the honor of your new girlfriend?" Layla noticed Sirius clenching his fists around his wand. "She deserves better than a blood traitor like you, you know."

"She seemed to think I was plenty good enough when she was —"

"Enough, Black," Layla hissed. "I can decide what friends I want for myself, thank you very much."

"Yeah, Black," Rabastan snickered. "Maybe Layla prefers me and my lot to you and yours."

Sirius fingered his wand in his pocket as his eyes clouded with anger, and Layla noticed. She reached for his arm to place a steadying hand on it, only for him to recoil from her touch. She let her hand fall, rejection boiling in her chest again. She bit her lip as Sirius said coldly, "Well if she'd like to run around with Death Eater scum like you and my brother, I don't want anything to do with her anyway."

The room went silent then as everyone's attention turned to the trio. Layla suddenly heard the deep, rich voice of Severus Snape saying, "What's the matter, Black? Can't control your woman?"

"Stay out of it, Snivellus," Sirius growled.

James, who'd been standing across the room talking with Remus and a red-haired girl with familiar green eyes that Layla could only guess was the future Lily Potter, cautioned, "Easy, Padfoot. Might want to take a breath."

Layla bristled as Sirius snapped, "No. Layla, come on. Why don't you tell these pureblood maniacs to back the hell off?"

"Because they've been a hell of a lot kinder to me than you have," Layla bit back.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius barked. "You sure as hell seemed to think I was plenty nice last night."

"Even when you were being nice you were still a git about it," Layla lashed out, letting the feelings of hurt and rejection ferment into pure anger.

"Doesn't surprise me to hear it," Rabastan said with a laugh. "I bet he put you under some kind of potion or spell to get you to sleep with him too, didn't he? That's one thing you'd never have to worry about with us Slytherins. We actually give a damn about other people's feelings, unlike those bloody Gryffindors."

"I did no such thing," Sirius snarled. "I didn't have to even ask for it. She threw herself at me. She was absolutely gagging for it —"

"That's a bloody lie!" Layla gasped. She saw out of the corner of her eye where Rabastan had pulled his wand slowly out of his pocket, holding it firmly in his grasp as though prepared to use it.

"'Oh, Sirius, I'm so curious about sex," Sirius mocked. "'I trust you, Sirius. I don't want to be alone tonight, Sirius.' Ringing any bells yet?"

"Padfoot —" Remus warned, far too late.

Layla pulled her own wand and pointed it at Sirius. "Shut up, Black," she spat, rage flooding her veins like venom, leaving her sweaty and shaky.

"You wanted me, sweetheart, and you know it," Sirius taunted, smirking at her.

Layla growled, "I wanted the man I was in bed with this morning, who was kind and considerate and caring. Apparently, though, that's not you, because one disapproving word from your bloody friends, and you're tossing me out on my arse like a common _whore_."

Sirius had his wand at his side now, prepared to defend himself. James said slowly, "All right, let's all just calm down now. Don't want this blowing out of proportion, do we?"

"You seriously allowed this beautiful creature to escape your bed feeling less than what she is?" Rabastan said, his voice hard. Layla glanced at him briefly, surprised to see that the teasing, mocking expression was gone from his place, replaced by sincere shock and anger. "Anyone with a brain who's lucky enough to pull a girl like her would have to be incredibly stupid to not make her feel loved and cherished. She's worth a thousand of your little mudblood slags…"

"It's none of your business, LeStrange," Sirius shouted, raising his voice so suddenly that it made Layla flinch. "We've all had more than enough of your vile."

James interrupted again, "Layla, Sirius, why don't you two discuss this later in private? Before things get out of hand —"

Layla grinned bitterly as she said, "Things are already out of hand, Potter."

"I needed space to think, Layla," Sirius said, more quietly though still fuming. "I certainly didn't mean for you to go away thinking that you were just —"

"Yes, but I did, didn't I?" Layla shrieked. "And now the whole bloody school knows that I'm just your little plaything. You're making me out to be a completely deranged lunatic!"

"I think you're doing a fine job of that yourself!" Sirius snapped back. "Wearing my tie and running around with Slytherins, making a scene —"

" _You_ made this scene! _You_ started the whole bloody thing!" Layla accused. "And if it weren't for that bloody awful Veritaserum none of this would have ever happened in the first place!"

"Veritaserum?" Snape repeated, dumbfounded.

"You knew," Layla said, waving the point of her wand at him. "You knew I was too vulnerable dosed with Veritaserum to be around people, and you took me off alone and took me to your bed!"

"It wasn't bloody like that, and you know it!" Sirius denounced. "You know damn well that I didn't take advantage of you!"

"You really gave her Veritaserum to get her in your bed? That's simply cruel, like shooting fish in a barrel," Rabastan scoffed.

"Enough of this!" Sirius barked. "Stupefy!"

A jet of red light flew at Rabastan, but Layla blocked it with an easy shield charm. Sirius stared at her in pained confusion, betrayed that she would defend his enemy, but she stood her ground. Rabastan seemed a bit surprised at first as well, but then he grinned at his new ally. "Stupefy!" Rabastan snarled, throwing his own Stunning Spell at Sirius, but Layla shielded Sirius as well.

Then both boys looked at her, confused, until Layla whipped her own wand, hitting Sirius on the shoulder with a potent Stinging Jinx. He cried out and grasped the joint with one hand, preparing with his wand in the other to retaliate. Layla didn't allow him time, though, before transfiguring every loose piece of parchment in the classroom into birds using a spell Hermione Granger had taught her fifth year. "Opuggno," she muttered, and the birds all flew at Sirius, attempting to peck his face. Sirius waved his wand and transfigured the birds into individual feathers that fluttered harmlessly to the floor, thereby escaping all damage. She followed the attack by crying, "Bombarda!" Sirius barely blocked the spell with a desk, which exploded and shattered, pieces flying across the room. Sirius shot a spell at Layla that she didn't recognize, and the blue light bounced off her small shield charm and clipped her shoulder, the sting quickly forgotten as Rabastan fired another Stunning Spell at Sirius, only for the Gryffindor to block it. Sirius waved his wand, and the feathers on the floor transfigured into small shards of glass, flying at Rabastan. Layla gasped as a few misfired at her, but a shield from Rabastan protected them both, turning the glass to water, which soaked the Slytherin and Ravenclaw to the bone.

James stepped forward, wand in hand. "All right, that's enough!" James shouted, but Layla ignored him.

Water dripping from her robes and bitter resentment filling her chest, Layla waved her wand as a spell passed through her mind so quickly she couldn't filter it if she had wanted. It wasn't even a spell she properly knew; Harry Potter had asked her what the spell did during sixth year, and she hadn't known. She knew now, though, and deeply wished she didn't. _Sectumsempra_ , she'd thought as she waved her wand at Sirius, and she gasped in horror as his clean white shirt blossomed into a horrifyingly deep shade of red. Sirius grunted upon the impact of the spell, dropping his wand and clutching at his chest as his severed flesh gushed blood. Several girls screamed as Layla covered her mouth in revulsion at her own actions, stepping back from Sirius as he fell to the ground, his blood now pooling on the stone floor as his face went white as a ghost. Then she remembered that Hermione had told her that the book Harry had gotten the spell from was Snape's, and she turned to the young version of her Potions professor now. "Snape, you have to fix him," Layla pleaded.

Snape arched an eyebrow at her. "How did you know that spell?"

"It doesn't matter now; you have to fix him!" Layla begged, starting to gasp for breath.

"Why should I?" Snape said, his eyes dancing with deranged glee. "He nearly killed me last year, you know. It's only just."

Hysterical now, Layla said shrilly, "I don't care if you think he's not worth it; just _please_ , Snape, fix him!"

Snape huffed. "Fine, but only because Malfoy would murder _me_ if you were thrown in Azkaban for murdering him." He stepped over Sirius, ignoring protests from James on his approach, and began slowly tracing the wounds with his wand, muttering unhappily under his breath, and Sirius's wounds stopped hemorrhaging blood, the deep gash stitching itself together. Finally, the healing work was done, and Snape snapped, "Get to the Hospital Wing and get yourself a Blood-Replenishing Potion, Black."

Snape stood and backed away as Sirius ever so slowly sat up, glaring at Snape's back. James snapped, "One hundred house points each from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin for this ridiculous and senseless violence. There was no good reason for such nasty fighting."

"Where did you learn that spell?" Snape hissed, grabbing Layla's arm roughly.

Layla gasped, stumbling a couple steps backward, but Snape followed, keeping the distance between them constantly the same. Rabastan stepped up beside her, pushing Snape back easily with a hand on Snape's chest as Layla lied, "Malfoy. Malfoy taught it to me."

Snape stared at her with hard black eyes, disbelieving, but Rabastan stopped any protests from his fellow Slytherin by saying, "Layla, you have to get to the Hospital Wing."

Layla shook her head. "No, I'm ok. Will Sirius be ok? I-I didn't think… I didn't mean to hurt him so horribly…"

Rabastan insisted, "Black's fine. You need to go to the Hospital Wing."

"I'm fine," Layla protested.

Rabastan stepped fully in front of her, facing her and placing his hands on her arms. When she wouldn't meet his dark gaze, he stooped a little to try to force her to make eye contact. "Layla, listen to me. You are seriously hurt. You _have_ to go see Madame Pomfrey."

Layla finally looked down at her soaking wet self then as she realized that her left shoulder still burned painfully. When she saw the bleeding she finally realized that Sirius's spell had done considerable damage. Her shirt had burned away, leaving her shoulder joint wholly exposed, which was almost completely covered by an oozing, yellow and red second-degree burn. Layla gagged at the sight and wrenched her head away. Her stomach roiled, and she suddenly felt very lightheaded, but Rabastan's hands on her arms held her firmly upright. Sirius noticed her injury and said tiredly, "Layla, I'm sorry. I didn't mean —"

"Oh, shut up, Black," Rabastan snapped. "Haven't you done enough damage for one day?" Placing Layla's arm around his waist, he forced her to lean on him for support, and she was too sick to fight him on it. "Come on, dearie. Let's get you to the Hospital Wing."

"I can go by myself," Layla protested.

"Oh please, you've not even been at Hogwarts five minutes. You don't actually know where the Hospital Wing is. Just let me take you," Rabastan insisted.

"No, I'll take her," Remus interrupted, forcing his way between Layla and Rabastan and taking her weight on himself.

"That works for me," Layla said, relieved, and Remus quickly escorted her from the room. When they were far enough down the hall to not be overheard, Layla sighed, "Thank you, Lupin." He grunted in acknowledgment but said nothing. "I didn't mean to cast that spell at Sirius," Layla said quietly. "I was waving my wand, and I just thought it and —"

"What even was that spell?" Remus demanded. "That looked like awfully dark magic to me."

The pair stopped at the bottom of the stairs up to the next floor, and Remus swept her off her feet, picking her up in a bridal carry to speed the trip to the hospital wing. As he carried her up the stairs, Layla confessed, "It was dark magic. Snape invented it… I suppose last year? Anyway, my friends and I all sort of learned it by accident, but we didn't know what it did until one of us accidentally almost killed another kid with it in a fight. I never even found out what exactly it did to him, just that it was too dangerous to use. I hadn't meant to ever use it, and certainly not against Sirius…"

"All right, all right," Remus said. "I believe you. But you'd better tell Sirius that, or he may never forgive you." After a moment's pause, he added, "Sirius has been a right git to you today, but you've got to cut him some slack. There are extenuating circumstances that you don't know about, and he really didn't mean for you to get hurt. Just talk to him." Layla nodded as they reached the Hospital Wing, and Madame Pomfrey swept her away from him before she could reply, fussing over her injury.

* * *

At dinner that night, Layla sat with Regulus Black at the Ravenclaw table once again, still unable to have gotten Sirius alone to speak with him about the fight. She picked over her meatloaf and mashed potatoes with a sigh, not actually eating, as Regulus watched her with worried eyes. Finally, he said, "I wouldn't even bother patching things up with my brother if I were you."

Layla jumped slightly; the pair had been quiet for so long that the sudden break in the silence was unexpected. "Why's that?" Layla asked.

"He'll just do it again."

Layla frowned. "I don't follow."

"He'll leave you alone again. It's what he does," Regulus said bitterly. "He only cares about what's best for him. He doesn't think about what his actions will do to other people like you. Not that he'd care even if he did think about it. Not caring is his specialty."

Thinking back to that morning, Layla said slowly, "I don't know, Regulus. He sure seemed like he cared about how I was feeling…"

"Right," Regulus sneered. "Maybe when you were still naked in his bed."

"Hey!" Layla exclaimed indignantly.

"Nothing against you for it, of course," Regulus went on. "But Sirius wants what he wants, he takes it, and he leaves everyone else broken and hurt in his wake. He's chaotic and dangerous, and he doesn't care. Even as a kid, he'd always play with his toys as hard as he could until he finally broke them, and then he'd toss them away and move along to the next one. He'll treat you the same."

Shaking her head, Layla said, "People aren't the same as toys. I think he knows that."

Snorting, Regulus retorted, "He replaced me and my family with those Marauders of his when he'd had enough of us. He'll easily do the same to you. Ever since he met them, the only people he cares about are those three friends of his, and that will never change. They'll always be his first priority."

Before Layla could reply, a massive eagle owl flew into the Great Hall and swept down on the Ravenclaw table, landing next to her plate. She dropped her fork on her plate and stared at the bird in total shock, unmoving, until Regulus sighed and tried to take the small package from the bird, who quickly nipped at his hand. He cried out and jerked his hand away, then grumbled, "I think it's for you."

Coming back to herself, Layla slowly reached out to the bird and took the parcel from it along with a letter. The moment it was sure she had taken everything, the large owl took off again, disappearing out an open window high above. Layla opened the bundle to find a small bag of her favorite treats inside. Ripping open the letter, hoping that perhaps this was Sirius's attempt to mend things between them, she found instead an elegant emerald green script greeting her. _"My Dearest Layla, My apologies for not having checked in with you sooner. I received an owl from Rabastan LeStrange this afternoon detailing some concern for the company you're keeping at Hogwarts. Apparently, Sirius Black has become quite the fixture in your social life, ending in a dramatic scene where he wounded you rather severely, and you nearly killed him. I thought that perhaps, then, a small care package might be appropriate. I had to guess at the sort of sweets you might like, so I do apologize if they are not to your taste. If there's anything that you need at all, please let me know, and I will do everything in my power to obtain your heart's desire. As far as the Gryffindor boy goes, I would advise you to stay as far away from him as you can. He and his friends are well on their way to meeting a sticky end, and I would truly hate it if you were endangered by your attachment to them. I suggest sticking quite closely to Regulus Black; he's a good sort of fellow, and I believe you two would get along splendidly. Stay safe and keep your grades up, my dear. Affectionately, Lucius Malfoy"_

Hands shaking, Layla dropped the letter and the bag of candy as if they had burned her. Regulus frowned at her, but she stayed silent, refusing to look at him. Giving up on her speaking first, Regulus asked, "What's the matter now?"

Layla shook her head. "Nothing," she lied, unconvincingly.

Scoffing, Regulus seized the letter from the table and read over it. "What's the matter with this? Sounds to me like he's just looking out for you, trying to keep you safe. And he sent you a care package; it's rather sweet, really."

Shaking her head again, Layla said quietly, "You don't understand, though. He… He's Malfoy."

"So?"

"Don't you know what he's done?" Layla hissed. "Can't you just imagine all the horrible, wretched things he's done for… for You-Know-Who?"

Regulus frowned at that. "Are you saying you don't like him because he's a Death Eater?" he whispered, careful not to be overheard.

Layla nodded. "He's absolutely vile," she snarled. "No amount of care packages in the world could change my mind about that."

"That's not very fair," Regulus said quietly. "You don't know why he might have become a Death Eater. Maybe the things he's done make him feel absolutely sick, but he doesn't have any choice. Maybe he never actually wanted to be a Death Eater, but he didn't have any way out like —" Regulus cut himself off suddenly, unwilling to finish his sentence.

After watching his terrified gray eyes for a moment, Layla's eyes widened as she realized, "Is that what you think is going to happen to you? Do you really think there's no way out of the Death Eaters for you, that you'll have to become one?"

Regulus mumbled, "Sirius took the only way out, and I couldn't follow him. So, yeah, with my mother and my cousins around, I'll never get out."

"Surely that's not true," Layla protested. "Why can't you just walk out like Sirius did?"

"It's not the same!" Regulus snapped, making Layla flinch. "Mother _let_ Sirius walk away. He'd been a terrible son, a Gryffindor, and a blood traitor all his life, so fine, let the bloody bastard walk away when he refused to take the Dark Mark. But me… she and Bella will kill me before they allow me to walk away as well because I'm the only male Black left of this generation. I'm the only proper pureblood of the family left that can pass on the family name. I'm trapped, Layla, and it's all his bloody fault."

"I'm sorry," Layla retorted, snatching the letter out of Regulus's hand and grabbing the candy and shoving it in her messenger bag with her books. "I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard, but you could do it. And I'm quite certain that Lucius Malfoy very willingly chose his _profession_ as well, and I think he's the lowest sort of vile filth there is for it." She stood and stormed off, only to stop when a hand shot out from the Gryffindor table and caught her elbow. "Leave me the bloody hell alo—" her voice died in her throat when she met Sirius Black's concerned gray eyes.

The two stared at each other in tense silence for a minute, Layla's heart thudding in her ears. Sirius broke the silence first. "Are you ok?" Layla nodded, suddenly noticing that her black hair had gotten static in it and was sticking to her skin. Sirius nodded back, then after an awkward moment, said, "About this morning, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to —"

Layla rushed, "Oh, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you with that awful spell this morning. I didn't mean to cast it at all; I just thought it and then you were bleeding —"

"I'm ok now," Sirius said, surprisingly calmly. "Are you ok? That spell I threw at you was a right nasty piece of work too."

"Yeah, I'm ok," she said softly, Sirius's thumb working in slow, deep circles on her arm where he still held her, soothing her temper.

Sirius's jaw worked for a moment as if he were holding something back, then he said quietly, "This morning, in the dorm, I —"

"Sirius," Layla murmured. "I don't know if I want to hear this."

"Please, just let me say this," Sirius said, pulling her along behind him out into the Entrance Hall where they would have more privacy. "I didn't mean to hurt you this morning, ok? I really didn't. I'm not heartless; I really do care about your feelings; I do. But this morning, the boys… and James, especially… Oh hell, I'm just going to tell you because I think you have a right to know. James was starting to develop a bit of a crush on you, and he'd already determined that he wasn't going to chase Lily Evans again this year, so when he saw you with me, well. He flipped his top. I realized all that this morning when all that happened, but I needed some time alone to figure out how to patch things up between me and him."

"But James and Lily are meant to be together," Layla said, surprised. "Why on earth would he have a crush on me?"

"You mean those two actually manage to get together?" Sirius said, equally surprised.

Layla nodded. "Yes, and… Well, this is just all rather bloody stupid, isn't it? So, what now?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't know exactly. No one else would know, but James and I are still sort of… well, things are tense is all… Even aside from his crush, he doesn't approve of the way things happened between us, and honestly, Remus doesn't either… and Peter's too much of a coward to ever actually say what he thinks of me I think…"

"Maybe I should just leave you four alone then," Layla said. "Although James… I could never agree to date him. Knowing one of the best people I know — knew — would never exist because of me getting in the way of true love? I could never."

"Why not?"

"Come again?"

"Why not?" Sirius repeated. "I mean, you just know the future you lived through. I get that, but didn't the future you lived in turn to total shit?" Layla floundered for a response. "I mean, maybe if you just lived your life and didn't worry about the consequences, maybe somehow things will change for the better by the time that you were growing up. Who knows? Maybe if you dated James something will change for the better."

Scoffing, Layla said, "Are you seriously trying to play wingman for James Potter within twenty-four hours of sleeping with me yourself?"

Sirius scowled. "That's not… Damn it, Layla," he growled. "I don't actually bloody care if you decide to go out with Potter or not, but I don't think you should limit your choices based on things that may not even happen in the future anymore."

Layla huffed, "Well, maybe I'll just make my choices myself. You certainly won't have any influence on them, I can assure you of that."

"Layla —"

She ignored him, spinning on her heel and running away until she found herself inside her Ravenclaw dorm room for the first time since she'd arrived at Hogwarts for the year, ignoring the only other girl in the dorm room and hiding in her bed behind the slate blue curtains with her school books. She flung herself into studying her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook. As it grew late and she began to grow hungry, Layla pulled the bag of sweets Malfoy had sent her out of her bag, deciding that as much as she hated Malfoy, a bag of treats as good as that one ought not to go to waste.


	4. Chapter 4: Sweet Sacrifice

_You poor, sweet, innocent thing, dry your eyes and testify. You know you live to break me; don't deny, sweet sacrifice._ — _Sweet Sacrifice, Evanescence_

* * *

 **October 29, 1977**

The longer Layla was at Hogwarts, the more routine her life became, until she'd almost regained a sense of normalcy. Dumbledore hadn't spoken to her again, which surprised her given her history, but she supposed it must be because Dumbledore realized as well as she did that she was useless in the fight against Voldemort. The Marauders had been giving her space as well, but as time went on, Layla stopped avoiding the boys, and Remus had started studying with her regularly in the library for their Defense Against the Dark Arts, and unsurprisingly to Layla, her skills in the subject considerably improved with Remus's help. Sirius and Layla refused to avoid each other, but they also preferred to get away from each other as quickly as politely possible. James was kind, naturally, but it was hard for Layla to forget what Sirius had said about him having a slight crush on her, so she did what she could to point him in Lily Evans' direction, which seemed to be effective enough.

Her only roommate, Dorcas Meadowes, had turned out to be a very sweet girl and a good friend. They spent many nights together studying History of Magic, Arithmancy, and Potions, bonding over shared sweets and romantic problems (apparently, Dorcas had been pining for ages over Frank Longbottom, only for him to marry a Hufflepuff girl named Alice Brown that past summer after the two had graduated Hogwarts). Regulus Black had surprised her by turning out to be a loyal friend as well; he insisted on joining her at the Ravenclaw table for almost every meal, even when Dorcas sat with her. He also tempered Rabastan LeStrange's considerably more outgoing attempts to coax Layla into some form of relationship, which never failed to shake Layla to her core, and he held back Severus Snape, who never stopped glaring at her suspiciously since he'd seen her cast the spell he had only recently invented.

Lucius Malfoy wrote to Layla nearly every day with seemingly intimate knowledge of the details of her life — congratulating her on house points she earned, praising her grades, warning her to stay safe, and encouraging her to take Rabastan LeStrange up on his offer of friendship while also suggesting she be sure to keep the relationship platonic. At least once a week he sent her more care packages, each time the items were more tailored to her personality. While she couldn't be sure how Malfoy was learning her likes and dislikes so well, she suspected that Regulus was telling Malfoy all he knew about her. She chose to forgive him for it, knowing that he was just scared of the Death Eater like she was. Layla was careful, however, to be sure to watch what she said around Regulus, particularly after their fight over Malfoy's status as a Death Eater, to make sure that nothing she wouldn't want Malfoy to know made its way to his ears.

This particular Saturday, Layla sat at breakfast with Regulus, halfway through a stack of blueberry pancakes when she announced, "The Ravenclaw Quidditch team is having try-outs this afternoon, you know." Regulus raised an eyebrow at her as he took a bite of his bacon and eggs, waiting in silence for her to continue, so she did. "Well, I want to try out."

Swallowing, Regulus asked, "What position do you play?"

Layla shrugged as she cut herself another bite of pancake with her fork. "Don't know. I've never actually played before, just watched."

Regulus laughed. "You're going to try out for a sport you've never even played before? Can you even fly?"

"I can fly," Layla said, a tiny bit hurt at his lack of faith in her. "I've even flown on hippogriffs and thestrals before."

The last bit caught Regulus's attention. "Thestrals?"

"Long story," Layla said quickly, brushing him off. "But I want to try playing Quidditch. I'm a fair flyer; I think I could do it."

"Well, maybe you can," Regulus said, easily distracted from his astonishment at her comment on thestrals. "But you won't stand a chance at those try-outs this afternoon if you haven't had a little practice first. Hurry up and finish your food; I'll take you out on my broom this morning and teach you what I can before the try-outs." Layla smiled as she started cutting up her pancakes vigorously in larger pieces, eating faster.

* * *

Out on the empty Quidditch pitch, Layla accepted the Nimbus 1985 that Regulus offered her. "Take my broom," he insisted.

"Well, what will you use?" Layla asked.

"LeStrange let me borrow his Cleansweep 4 when he heard you wanted to practice before Quidditch try-outs," Regulus answered, shaking the other broom in his hand. "Frankly, I'm not sure I trust him enough to let you use it though, so take mine. Mine's better, anyway." Layla nodded as Regulus continued, "So, what position do you think you might want to play?"

Layla shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe seeker?"

Regulus grinned as he looked her up and down. "Well, if you make the team, don't expect to win any games against Slytherin, even if you are about the right build for it. I'm their team seeker; no way you could ever beat me to the snitch."

Laughing, Layla shook her head. "Forget it, then," Layla said. "I'm not going head to head against you. You're absolutely right; you'd probably crush me every time. Ok, well what position could _you_ see me playing then?"

Regulus opened the box he'd brought with him and picked up the Quaffle inside. Suddenly, he spun on her and threw the Quaffle at Layla's head. Layla squeaked but threw her hands up, catching the Quaffle, which hit her palms hard enough to leave her hands stinging. Regulus said, "Ok, now throw it back to me." Layla chucked the Quaffle at Regulus as hard as she could, annoyed at being startled by him. It slipped through his hands and smacked hard against his chest. He grunted at the impact. "Very good," he coughed, still bending over holding the Quaffle. "I think you'd make a ruddy good keeper, maybe even a chaser. We'll have to get you in the air to test you for sure."

* * *

That night, Layla sat in the Three Broomsticks with Regulus and Dorcas, sharing a piece of elderberry pie with her fellow Ravenclaw. She could see Sirius with his friends across the pub. Sirius was watching her intently, not even looking away when she caught him staring. Unsure what to make of that, she looked away from him, focusing on the bite of pie on her fork until she heard a voice from behind that turned her blood cold. "Layla, my dearest."

Dropping her fork with its uneaten bite onto the plate with a clatter, Layla spun around in her chair to find herself staring up in shock at Lucius Malfoy. "Malfoy," Layla said quietly, unable to find other, better words.

Malfoy took the empty seat next to her. "How did your Quidditch try-outs go this afternoon?"

Layla nearly choked on air at his question. She'd only told Regulus about the try-outs that morning, and she was fairly certain he hadn't left her side the whole day. She couldn't even begin to imagine how Malfoy had found out about the try-outs. When she remained in horrified silence for too long, Regulus cleared his throat and answered for her, "Layla's going to be the new Ravenclaw keeper."

"Well, congratulations, then," Malfoy said with a smile, casually tossing an arm around her shoulders and hugging her to his side. He loosened his grip, but his arm never left her shoulders. "I'm sure your parents would be proud of you."

Layla couldn't take anymore after Malfoy mentioned her parents. What right did a Death Eater like Lucius Malfoy have to mention her parents, who had been murdered by his Death Eater friends? She slipped out from under Malfoy's arm, mumbling, "Excuse me," more out of habit than intended politeness, then rushed to the women's restrooms as fast as she could. Every tiny anxious, neurotic feeling she'd been struggling to get past for the last couple months came flooding back, and she bent over the nearest toilet and hurled. Memories crowded her mind — of her parents on the hotel floor drenched in pools of their own blood, her father's head removed from his shoulders by some Snatcher's abuse, the look of horror permanently etched on her dead mother's blood-spattered face…

Layla jerked violently when she felt a hand on her back, but she continued to vomit anyway, unable to stop long enough to mount any sort of defense against the intruder. She gasped for air between puking as she heard Sirius's voice muttering in my ear, "Shh, shh. It's all right. You're going to be just fine, kitten. Shh, shh. I'm here. You're safe. You'll always be safe with me." When she could finally stop, she involuntarily continued to swallow so often and so fast that she couldn't breathe, except for occasional gulps of air when her body gave her the chance. Sirius held her hair back for her, his free hand never stopping its soothing caress on her back. When she finally sat back away from the toilet, tears clouded her eyes too much to be able to make out Sirius's face as anything other than a blurred swirl of skin tones and black hair even as he let her own black hair fall and wiped tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. She relaxed slightly under his touch, still struggling for breath, as he asked, "What happened? Why is Malfoy here?"

Layla shook her head just enough that Sirius could feel her face move in his hands, but it was barely visible. "I don't know," she panted. "He – he asked about Quidditch, and…"

"You're absolutely bloody terrified of him," Sirius said certainly. Layla nodded tiredly, exhausted after emptying her stomach. "Don't go back to him," Sirius insisted. "Come back out there with me. The boys and I will make sure you slip out of here without having to deal with Malfoy anymore."

Layla hesitated. "I don't know…"

"Why not?" Sirius asked. "The only power that man has over you is the power you give him, so don't give him any."

Groaning, Layla muttered, "I'm not so sure it works that way." Eyes finally clearing of tears enough that she could make out the worried expression on Sirius's face, Layla said, "I can survive a few minutes conversation with the man. Just — just stay, please? At your table with your friends, so you can watch… I can't just leave Dorcas and Regulus alone with that man."

Sighing, Sirius nodded. "All right. But at the first sign of trouble, I'm coming over there, and I'm marching you right back up to Ravenclaw tower, where you'll be safe."

Layla snorted. "And then we'll somehow detour into your bed again?" She laughed softly as Sirius scowled. "I'm just teasing; don't worry." She stood up, and Sirius followed. Layla left the room and returned to her table, where Malfoy was still waiting for her. She sat down next to him again, refusing to make eye contact with Regulus and Dorcas' concerned gazes. "Sorry," Layla mumbled. "I think I'm getting a touch of the flu." She chanced a glance up and saw Sirius sitting back down next to James across the room, glaring at Malfoy with pure hatred.

"How awful," Malfoy said, his voice low and soothing as he pushed Layla's hair back from her forehead. "At least it didn't set in until after the Quidditch try-outs, or you might not have made the team." Layla nodded as he cupped her face in his hand, running a thumb soothingly across her cheek, shivering in the same mix of disgust and relaxation he'd made her feel before the school year had started. Malfoy hummed low in his throat, then said, "Let's get you a butterbeer to soothe your stomach, then we'd better send you back up to the castle, hmm?" Layla nodded, and Malfoy caught a waitress and ordered the butterbeer. Regulus raised a questioning eyebrow at Layla, but she shook her head at him. Dorcas left with an excuse about needing to study, leaving the pub as quickly as she could. When the waitress brought her drink, Layla sipped at it slowly, her stomach still churning a little. Malfoy and Regulus discussed Regulus's plans for after Hogwarts and politics until Layla said, "I think I'm getting a fever. I'd better head up to the castle before Madame Pomfrey goes to bed."

Malfoy frowned, seeming slightly worried. "Yes, of course. I'm sure she can fix you right up. Regulus, would you please escort my dearest Layla to the castle? I want to be certain that she'll be safe, walking up there in the dark."

Clearing his throat, Regulus quickly jumped to his feet as he said, "Yes, of course."

Regulus rushed to the other side of the table and pulled Layla's chair out for her to stand, but Malfoy stopped her by asking, "Shall we meet again next Hogsmeade weekend? Explore the shops, have a quiet dinner together?" Layla opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out, so Malfoy said cheerfully, "Excellent. I'll see you then. I'll send you an owl with the details." He captured her hand and his and brought it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles. "Good night, my dear," he said, smirking slightly.

Layla stood quickly, pulling her hand from Malfoy's and grabbing on as tightly as she could to Regulus's hand, dragging him along behind her as she rushed from the pub. As they walked up the High Street toward Hogwarts, Regulus demanded, "What the bloody hell happened back there? No way you've got the flu."

"Of course I don't have the ruddy flu," Layla snapped. "But that man makes me absolutely sick. Talking about my parents like that… He has absolutely no bloody right to speak about them…"

"What exactly happened to your parents?" Regulus asked.

Layla's stomach flipped again as the images of her murdered parents flashed through her mind's eye. After a moment, when she regained the reuse of her voice, she said flatly, "They were murdered by Death Eaters. We were hiding from them, refusing to cooperate with them, and they found us. They murdered my parents while I watched, and they…" Layla stopped, gagging on stomach acid as she tried not to vomit again. Regulus forced Layla to let go of his hand so that he could wrap his arm around her shoulder, supporting her weight as they walked slowly through the forest path. "Malfoy saved me from hell, I admit, but he's still a Death Eater and a vile man, and I can't bring myself to feel anything but hatred for him."

Regulus frowned as they walked. After a few minutes of silence, he said slowly, "What about me? What if… what if I have to become a Death Eater too?" Brows furrowing, Layla stared at Regulus's face as they walked, but he merely stared down at the ground as they moved. "Will you hate me if I become a Death Eater too?"

Layla hesitated. As much as she liked Regulus, she couldn't help the slight shiver down her spine at the mental image of Regulus with the Dark Mark on his arm. "I don't think you'd take the mark, Regulus," she said honestly. "You're not like them. You're not violent and cruel like they are."

A few more minutes of silence passed, then Regulus said, "I might. I don't… I don't know if I agree with them, but Mother and Bellatrix… I might."

Layla looked down sadly at the path under their feet. She hated the idea of Regulus joining the Death Eaters. "Do you really think you could do it, though? Could you do the things You-Know-Who will ask you to do?"

Even though she wasn't looking at him, she could feel Regulus grimace at the idea from his arm around her shoulder. Sighing, he said admitted, "I don't know, but I might not have a choice in the matter."

Layla still couldn't bear to imagine Regulus as a Death Eater. He was a good, sweet boy; a bit misguided perhaps, but he had a kind soul. "They'll crush you," Layla asserted confidently. "They'll chew you up and spit you out again. They'll ruin your life." Regulus started to argue, but she continued over his protests, "But even if you join them, I don't think I'd hate you. You're… you're not like Malfoy and them. You're good and honest and kind. You really would only join the Death Eaters because you feel you have no other choice. I won't hate you." She felt Regulus's sigh of relief, but he stayed silent for the rest of the trip to the castle. He walked her up to Ravenclaw tower, said a brief good night, then sent Layla inside, where she went straight to her warm, cozy bed and curled up with a book of Tennyson poems, her mum's favorite poet, until she finally managed to drift off to a poor night's sleep.

* * *

 **October 30, 1977**

The next morning at breakfast, Layla was sitting alone at the Ravenclaw table when Sirius sat himself down at the table across from her. "How are you?" he asked worriedly.

Layla shrugged. "Remembering the night my parents died made me ill. I'm all right now," she said truthfully.

"And Malfoy?" Sirius pressed.

Sighing, Layla admitted, "I've been roped into seeing him again next Hogsmeade weekend. If I'm not mistaken, I believe it might be a date."

Sirius grimaced. "Well, obviously you can't go with him," he said decidedly.

"Well, I certainly don't want to go," Layla grumbled. "But I don't think I've got any choice."

"Here's a choice," Sirius said with a mischievous grin. "Go with me instead."

Layla froze, a piece of toast halfway to her mouth. "Are you joking?"

"Not at all."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because, you're you," Layla huffed. "And… Malfoy…"

"You didn't have a problem with me being me at the start of term. In fact, it seemed to be a bit of a turn-on for you," Sirius teased.

"Don't start that mess," Layla warned.

"Sorry," Sirius said, but he didn't seem the least bit sincere. "Just please, blow off Malfoy and go with me."

"I don't think I should," Layla said softly. "Not that I don't want to, but Malfoy… I don't know what Malfoy will do if…"

"Bah, don't worry about Malfoy," Sirius scoffed. "I can deal with Malfoy."

Layla hesitated. "Why does it feel to me like you only want to take me out because you know it'll piss off Malfoy and his Death Eater friends, like your parents?" Layla asked suspiciously.

Sirius shrugged. "That's not the only reason," he said. "But it is a nice little bonus, don't you think?"

Layla shook her head. "No, I don't," she said. "I'm not a tool for you to use to piss off your bloody mother, so just shove off, Sirius Black." Sirius began to protest, but she grabbed her bag and her half-eaten slice of toast and stormed off to the Slytherin table, ignoring the many looks of astonishment from the rest of the Great Hall as she wedged herself between Rabastan LeStrange and Regulus Black. Rabastan glanced back and forth between Layla and Sirius before he burst out laughing, and Regulus gave her a confused look. Layla answered his silent question. "Your brother is an absolute prat."

Regulus swallowed a bit of sausage and started to say something, but Rabastan spoke first. "Layla, I'm sure you know there's a Halloween party tomorrow night down at the Three Broomsticks?"

Layla paused with a bite of toast halfway to her mouth. "I've heard about it," she said slowly.

"Are you going?" Rabastan asked, a roguish grin on his face.

Layla gave Regulus a pleading look for help, but he only shrugged. "I hadn't been planning to," Layla huffed, turning back to Rabastan, more thoroughly annoyed than ever by the boys of this school.

His grin widened. "Well, perhaps you'd like to go with me?" He asked as he poured Layla a goblet of pumpkin juice.

Layla accepted the cup when Rabastan placed it in her hand, evaluating his offer. The boy next to her was a LeStrange, a Death Eater (or soon to be a Death Eater if not already), brother-in-law to Bellatrix LeStrange who had tortured her and scarred her for life… However, he was also handsome, charming, and, so far, chivalrous. As dangerous an enemy as he was, he'd also make an equally protective ally. Malfoy had been right about one thing: Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix could hardly guarantee her safety. The Order might be larger and stronger than it was in her own time, but so were Voldemort's forces. Knowing what she knew was coming, it seemed that perhaps — although she knew she could never take the Dark Mark herself, especially not with the "mark" Bellatrix had left on her — but all the same, perhaps the safest place for her to be just then really was standing next to a Death Eater. Rabastan certainly seemed a decent enough fellow, other than being a Death Eater, and she wasn't supposed to know anything about any of that. "All right," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

Regulus choked on pumpkin juice in his surprise. He coughed violently, then gasped, "Really?"

Rabastan ignored Regulus's shock. "Fantastic," he said happily. "Meet me in the Entrance Hall tomorrow night at seven?" Layla nodded. "Excellent. I'll see you then." Rabastan nodded his head at Regulus, then left.

Regulus gave Layla a gentle smack on the shoulder. "What the bloody hell?" Regulus exclaimed. "I thought you couldn't stand his… sort. His _status_ in the wizarding community," Regulus hissed, leaning heavily on implication to get across his meaning.

Layla took a bite of her toast as she said, "I've been thinking a lot about our conversations on that subject this morning, along with some things Malfoy has had to say on the subject in the past, and…" She sighed heavily, setting her toast down on Regulus's plate. "Well, honestly, after what happened to my parents, it feels horrible thinking about taking the side of the people who murdered them, but… But they aren't here anymore. It's just me, and… while I agree with the Order of the Phoenix, that You-Know-Who should be stopped, that's not exactly a safe position to take, is it?"

Regulus said slowly, "Well, no…"

"I've had to fight to be part of this world my whole life," Layla said bitterly. "I've had to fight for every little thing I've ever had, magic included, and I'm tired of fighting. Goodness knows I'll never join up with them, but if being a little kinder to Malfoy and his friends means I'm safe, that I don't have to struggle to survive day-to-day anymore, well… why not?"

Regulus chewed on the thought as he took another bite of sausage. He swallowed and said, "You're right about that. Just be careful of Rabastan. He's a decent enough fellow, but he's dangerous. Just be careful." Layla nodded before stealing a piece of sausage from Regulus's plate and popping it in her mouth too quickly for Regulus to smack her hands away, smirking at him triumphantly as she ate it.

* * *

 **October 31, 1977**

Layla tugged at the tight empire waist of the deep green dress she wore, one of the many dresses straight out of the 1950s that Malfoy had insisted on buying for her before school started, her black robes flowing around her as she paced in front of the stairs in the Entrance Hall. It was almost 7:30, and the black patent leather pumps were already starting to make her feet hurt. She wanted to complain about Malfoy's taste in clothes for women, but if she were honest with herself, she'd have to admit that she absolutely loved the dresses he'd picked out for her — or had Dobby pick out for her, she wasn't really sure. She'd always had a thing for the clothes of the 50s and 60s, and the music of the 70s and 80s. Her style was completely random and depending on the day, but Malfoy taking over her wardrobe helped her pretend to be much more put together than she typically felt. But for now, Layla was very much starting to regret her decision to go out with Rabastan LeStrange when he finally appeared behind her as she turned to begin pacing the other direction, giving her a little fright. Her hands flew to her ruby red lips in surprise, making Rabastan laugh, his eyes glinting mischievously. "You're easy to startle," he teased.

Layla huffed good-naturedly and said, "Well, it's rather easy to be easily startled when you're becoming more certain by the minute that you're being stood up."

Rabastan sobered a bit at that. "I'm sorry about that, dearie. I'm afraid I fell victim to yet another Marauder prank on my way here, and only just got myself back to right."

"What sort of prank?" Layla asked, but Rabastan dismissed her question with a wave of his hand.

"The kind that retribution is already being paid for. But don't worry your pretty head about that, now, dearie," Rabastan said nonchalantly, taking her elbow and leading her toward the front doors. "Let's just head to the party."

The pair started on their way to the party in awkward silence, though Rabastan didn't seem to mind the quiet at first. Then as the walk went on, Rabastan became more and more loquacious about blood purity, the supposed mess the Ministry of Magic has become in recent years, and his own desires to put his pureblood stamp on the world. Layla couldn't help but roll her eyes at him, but she made certain he never saw it. He held her hand for the majority of the trip, which Layla wasn't too thrilled with but allowed anyway. When they finally entered the Three Broomsticks, a giggly blonde girl rushed Rabastan and threw her arms around him in greeting. Rabastan grinned as he pushed the girl back, and suddenly Layla realized that she must be his sister-in-law Narcissa Malfoy — no, Narcissa Black. Layla had to remind herself that Lucius Malfoy had not married Narcissa Black after all. "And who is your little friend, Rabastan?" Narcissa asked, smiling at Layla.

"Narcissa, this is Layla Danes," Rabastan introduced. "Layla, this is Narcissa Black."

Narcissa went from warm and friendly to cold and hostile in under a second. "Oh, I see," Narcissa sneered. "You're Lucius Malfoy's new little halfblood _friend_." She spat the last word as if it were some sort of curse. "I'm surprised he'd ever let you out of his sight, much less allow you to wander on the arm of another man."

Layla hesitated, unsure how to respond, but Rabastan stepped in. "Now, now, Narcissa," Rabastan cooed. "I'm sure Layla had nothing to do with any decisions Lucius made about your relationship."

Narcissa began to protest, but a dark-haired woman Layla instantly recognized ran up beside her and hung on her arm. She was younger and prettier now than Layla remembered, but that didn't do anything to ease Layla's terror at the sight of her. "Oh, come on, Cissy, dear, don't be a bore," Bellatrix giggled, clearly having already been in the liquor. "I'm sure my dear brother Rabastan would just love to buy you a drink, now, wouldn't you, Rabastan?"

Rabastan seemed to take a deep breath, then said, his patience slightly strained, "Of course, Bella. Come, Narcissa." Narcissa took his arm, throwing a smug little smirk at Layla, before they walked away together to the bar, leaving Layla totally alone with the person she was most afraid of in the entire world — Bellatrix LeStrange.

"Who are you?" Bellatrix demanded, some of her friendliness from moments before lost.

"Layla Danes," Layla breathed, unable to move, barely able to think at all. "Lucius Malfoy's friend…"

"Oh yes," Bellatrix laughed. "Dear Lucy's new little halfblood whore. I remember you now; you ruined my sister's engagement to Malfoy."

Layla shook her head as her fear began to spin out of control, her hands shaking with barely restrained panic. "No, no, I had nothing to do with that," Layla denied.

"Really? Is that so?" Bellatrix scoffed. "There was no sign of an end to their relationship until you suddenly turned up from wherever the hell you came from, and then suddenly, poof! There goes my sister's marriage contract." Layla flinched as Bellatrix approached her, wand in hand. Bellatrix delicately traced Layla's jawline with the tip of her wand. "I wonder how upset Lucius would be if his pretty little girlfriend's face suddenly wasn't quite so _pretty_ anymore," Bellatrix whispered, a subtle, mad grin curling her lips.

Layla kept a tight grip on her own wand, pulling it from her pocket, blue eyes manic with fear as they darted about the room, searching for safety. Bellatrix's dark, wild curls suddenly encroached on Layla's vision, and her left arm burned deep to the bone, as though Bellatrix's dagger had buried itself in her flesh once again, and she snapped. This wasn't like before, after all. Layla was defenseless when Bellatrix had tortured her for Harry Potter's whereabouts. Now, she had a wand, and enough fear and hatred of the woman before her to drive her to use it. With a subtle jerk of her wand by her side, Layla whispered back, "Crucio." Bellatrix gasped, removing her wand from Layla's face and clutching at her chest, taking deep ragged breaths for air and whimpering, her face smirk falling into a horrified pout as she realized what was happening to her — her own favorite spell was being turned against her. She stumbled back a few steps, then Layla released the spell, following her until they were in each other's faces again. "Stay the bloody hell away from me, LeStrange. I mean it. Stay away from me." Bellatrix grinned suddenly, then grabbed at Layla's left arm. Layla fought back, struggling as Bellatrix tried to push up the sleeve of her robes. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" Layla demanded.

Bellatrix giggled as she asked excitedly, "You've taken the Dark Mark, haven't you? Casting that spell so easily and so publicly, surely you must be one of us."

Layla managed to free her arm from the older woman's grasp before she could see the scars that her future self had left on Layla's arm. "Absolutely bloody not," Layla snapped. "You and your lot absolutely repulse me."

"You will join us," Bellatrix purred, dark eyes wild with excitement. "I can see it in your pretty little blue eyes. You'll be one of us one day. The Dark Lord will certainly want a powerful, beautiful, spirited pet like you for his own."

Layla started to snap back at Bellatrix, but Rabastan reappeared by her side with some silly pink cocktail offered to her. "Look at you two, becoming such good friends," Rabastan said with a smile. Layla shuddered at the idea of being _friends_ with Bellatrix LeStrange.

Bellatrix hummed, "Of course, dear brother. I just adore your new little girlfriend here. Much better than your usual choices in women. This one's got spunk, she does." Bellatrix winked at her, and Layla tasted bile, realizing that rather than frightening her into steering clear of her, she'd unintentionally convinced the psychotic witch to actually _like_ her.

Rabastan's grin broadened. "Wonderful to hear," he said cheerfully as Layla accepted the mystery drink from him. Wrapping an arm around her waist, Rabastan continued, "Perhaps one day soon you'll be able to call each other sister." Revulsion filled Layla at that, and she sipped at the drink in her glass in an attempt to keep herself from throwing up. The alcohol in her cup burned her throat horribly, and she gagged at it. Lapsing into a coughing fit, Layla felt Rabastan patting her back and rubbing it in comforting circles. "You all right, dearie?" Rabastan teased as Layla began to breathe normally again. "Haven't you ever had alcohol before?"

Layla shook her head in reply. Bellatrix and Rabastan laughed as Narcissa rejoined them. "Oh, well don't worry, darling," Bellatrix cooed. "It gets better and easier with time, just like sex and murder, you know, all those fun little things they like to say are bad of us."

Layla took another sip of the sweet guava flavored drink, which had finally started to drown out the nastier flavor of the actual alcohol, to avoid saying anything in return to that disgusting remark. Rabastan leaned down and whispered in her ear, his attempt at seduction, "Not to mention, it mixes so well with the other two activities. Perhaps we could discover that together tonight."

Layla struggled to find her voice, her tongue suddenly thick and dry in her mouth. All the energy had started to fade from her body, and she leaned against Rabastan for support, struggling to stand in her stilettos. Unable to hold her head up, she let it fall onto his shoulder as the room started spinning in horribly bright colors. Narcissa's smirking face came into high focus as Narcissa asked, her voice sounding as if it were much farther away than her face was, "Is something wrong, sweetheart? You don't look like you feel well."

Layla tried to respond, but her vocal chords felt paralyzed. Rabastan's voice suddenly floated into her mind, far louder than Narcissa's, as though he were speaking right in her ear, "Come on, dearie. Looks like you're not handling your liquor very well. I'll take you back to my dorm; you can sleep it off there."

Unable to argue or even lift her head to shake it, Layla stumbled as Rabastan directed her toward the pub's door, but then they stopped. Layla's legs went out from under her, and she nearly fell, but Rabastan caught her under the arms and pulled her back to his side again — wait, when had she left his side in the first place? His hold on her felt different than it had before, tighter, rougher, meaner… Something was wrong; she didn't know what, but something was wrong. She should leave; it was time to cut and run, but... When had they ended up in the alley between the Three Broomsticks and — what was the next building over again? Everything was dark; she couldn't think. She could barely breathe. She was so cold… Something rough dug into her lower back, and she hissed at the pain. The pain sharpened her focus, and her eyes found Rabastan's as he stood in front of her, his chest pressed hard against hers, dark eyes full of terrifying, dangerous, sinful lust as she suddenly felt his hands under her skirt, gripping her bare hips roughly — when had her panties disappeared? Layla tried to scream, but her voice stopped in her throat, and no sound came out. Her heart pounded as her head fell back and hit something hard, making her see stars. Her small hands found Rabastan's chest and tried to push him away, but her arms were shaky and weak, and she doubted he could even feel her resistance. She wanted to fight back, wanted to run away, but her body wouldn't do anything she asked it to...

Layla blinked, and suddenly Rabastan was gone. Bright flashes of red and white light blinded her, and she wanted to scream, but her throat closed on her, muting her cries. Then Lucius Malfoy was in front of her instead, pulling her away from the alley wall, carefully picking her up in his arms. He whispered soothing things in her ear that she couldn't properly understand, and when she blinked again, he was laying her down on a bed in a brightly lit bedroom. Malfoy gently forced her head up, compelling her to drink something she couldn't even begin to identify. She gagged and coughed on the disgusting bitter liquid, her whole body suddenly spasming in protest, but Malfoy forced her to drink what felt like a copious amount of the drink before he allowed her to lie back down. After a couple of minutes, the feeling began to return to her body, and she became vividly aware of quite a few aches and pains all over her body that she knew hadn't been there before the party. Her clouded mind finally began to clear, and her eyes focused on the world around her, finally landing on Malfoy's worried face. Her tongue still felt too large and too dry, but she managed to push the words out anyway. "What happened?"

Malfoy seemed to breathe a small sigh of relief before he said, "One of the world's nastier so-called 'love potions.' Apparently, Narcissa and Rabastan slipped it into your drink." Layla closed her eyes tiredly for a minute, her hand reaching out, hanging off the bed, until Malfoy took it, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb reassuringly. Layla swallowed hard, feeling developing bruises on her hips, unwilling to ask the dreadful question that plagued her. Malfoy seemed to understand her silence, however, and answered quietly, "He didn't get that far. I stopped him before — before he could do that." Tears of relief stung Layla's eyes. "I won't lie, I knew Bellatrix and Rodolphus were quite awful, but I never suspected Narcissa and Rabastan would turn against you like that. Rabastan has always been a decent sort of fellow, particularly towards women. Narcissa must've really twisted him around her little finger if he's behaving like that."

Layla snorted. "He's a Death Eater," she derided. "Of course he's a disgusting, evil man."

"Hey," Malfoy said, temper flaring. "Enough of that. I'll admit, Rabastan's turned out to be a nasty little piece of shit, but remember, I'm a Death Eater, too. I could've just as easily saved you from him only to take advantage of you myself instead of giving you the antidote, but I didn't."

"You're right," Layla admitted quietly. "I'm sorry."

Malfoy took a deep breath, then let it out. "I'm sorry, too," he said, surprising Layla. Her eyelids felt heavy as he said, "Narcissa must've been the mastermind behind this little scheme. I decided not to marry Narcissa because… well, I was hoping to win you over and marry you instead. She was furious. She must've encouraged Rabastan to rape you like that because if you'd had sex with him, his parents would have forced you two to marry, whether you wanted to or not. I imagine Narcissa thought that with you out of the way, I'd marry her after all."

Layla hummed her agreement with Malfoy's hypothesis, sleepiness overwhelming her in the warm, comfortable room. "Is it that way with all purebloods?" she asked drowsily. Malfoy nodded. Layla giggled slightly. "Then he's far too late, anyway. I already slept with Sirius Black, so by your own rules, I'd have to marry him."

Malfoy shook his head. "That doesn't count," Malfoy sneered. "He's been disowned. He's a blood traitor. He most definitely would not count."

"And the Snatchers that raped me for over a week before I showed up in your house tortured and ruined?" Layla said bitterly, eyes closed tight against the painful memories even as the soreness currently residing in her muscles forced those memories to the front of her mind.

Malfoy's frown deepened at that. "They're nothing, to you or anyone else."

Layla sighed, her body relaxing some into the softness of the bed and the pillows. "What kind of stupid sex tradition is that anyway? Purebloods are so... puritanical."

Malfoy answered, "It's more about bloodlines than sex. If the only person your wife has ever had sex with is you, then there's never any question if the children are yours. Your heirs are proper purebloods, and there's no doubt about their legitimacy."

"You purebloods, pretending you're royalty or something, all obsessed with 'heirs' and shit," Layla teased. "Absolutely ridiculous."

A ghost of a smile crossed Malfoy's face at that. "Perhaps so," Malfoy admitted, sounding a bit amused. "But that's how it's been for centuries. I'm not sure it could change now."

"It could if you wanted it to," Layla insisted sleepily, pausing to yawn. "At least in your own house."

"Why would I do that when I could just marry you?" Malfoy teased back.

"You don't want to marry me," Layla said. "That would be really stupid."

"How so?" Malfoy asked.

"So many reasons..." Layla trailed off, exhausted. "I should — I should go," she mumbled, unable to open her eyes. "Back up to the castle. Ravenclaw tower…"

"Shush, now," Malfoy soothed, his hand stroking her black hair lulling her to sleep. "You're in no condition to go anywhere. I'll make sure your absences from your classes tomorrow are excused. You're safe here; go on to sleep."

Layla's grip on Malfoy's hand was weak, but she tugged on it anyway, and he let her pull him closer until he was sitting on the edge of the bed rather than in a chair next to it. She slurred, "It's so cold in here."

Malfoy hesitated. "I really shouldn't," he said slowly. "I'd rather keep your trust in the morning. But here." He waved his wand, and suddenly she was covered by blankets all enchanted with a warming charm, and she sighed contentedly, snuggling down happily. A moment later, she lost all awareness as sleep overcame her.

* * *

 **November 1, 1977**

The next morning, Layla woke up in bed alone, the sun shining in on her makeup-smeared face. She squinted against the bright light, dizzy and nauseous, her head pounding furiously. Memories of the previous night rushed through her mind, leaving her head spinning even more. Nausea overwhelming her, she rushed to a closed door she guessed was the bathroom, throwing herself inside, surprised to find Malfoy inside taking a shower. Ignoring the man and his startled protests, Layla immediately bent over the toilet and retched violently, only able to manage stomach acid as she had nothing more on her stomach. She heard the water from the shower turn off, then the rustle of a towel being ripped from its rack, then a pair of large, damp hands were pulling her hair away from her face as she gasped for air, still kneeling next to the toilet. Layla's skin burned all over as though someone had just hit her with twenty warming charms, and her spine ached from the powerful tremors of cold running down her back. Her blood pounded violently against her skull as Malfoy said fretfully, "It's a side effect of that awful potion that LeStrange gave you. I'm so sorry."

Layla leaned back against the wall next to the toilet, really looking at Malfoy for the first time that day. He had wrapped his towel around his waist, concealing anything she ought not to see, but beads of water still ran down his chest, pulling the eyes downward. Layla swallowed, then said quietly, "Thank you, Malfoy. For last night. For saving me and taking care of me."

"Of course," Malfoy said. "I said I'd keep you safe and give you anything you wanted, and I meant it." Layla nodded sharply. "Why don't we go ahead and get you back to the castle? I've already sent an owl to Regulus Black this morning explaining what happened and instructing him to go absolutely everywhere with you. The boy is never to leave your side, except for classes, understand?" Layla nodded as he helped her to her feet. "Good. Now, back to the castle with you."

* * *

The minute Malfoy and Layla reached the gate to the grounds of Hogwarts, Regulus pulled the gate open. Layla raced over to him, surprising the younger Slytherin by throwing her arms around his neck and clinging to him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. He let his arms fall around her and patted her back awkwardly. "Are you all right?" Regulus asked softly.

Layla sniffed, struggling not to start crying, "Yeah, I'm ok. Thanks to Malfoy."

"Take good care of her, Black," Malfoy ordered harshly. "I don't want anything like last night happening again, and if LeStrange tries to come anywhere near her again… kill him. Understand?" Layla felt Regulus nod, his chin pressing into her shoulder. "And take her straight to Pomfrey. She's still sick from the love potion, even after the antidote." Regulus nodded again as Malfoy said, more kindly, "Layla, write to me. I want to be certain you're safe and feeling better."

"Ok," Layla mumbled into Regulus's shoulder. She heard the sound of dead leaves underfoot as Malfoy walked away, and Regulus started running a hand up and down her back. When she was fairly certain Malfoy couldn't hear anymore, Layla said quietly, "I was so stupid."

"You weren't stupid," Regulus said firmly. "He was your date; you couldn't have possibly expected my cousin to have him in the palm of her hand like that. Hell, I wouldn't have even believed Cissy to be capable of something like that. I'm sure she took inspiration from something Bella said."

"No offense to you, Regulus," Layla grumbled. "But your entire bloody family can go to hell. They're horrible, awful people."

Regulus sighed. "No, you're right," he agreed. "They really are, the lot of them. Sirius was the only one halfway decent, but he's always been so bloody cavalier toward everyone and everything." He paused. "Oh, and I guess my cousin Andromeda is pretty all right too. But she's much older than us; you wouldn't know her. You'd probably like her actually."

Lights flashed against the back of her closed eyelids, making her dizzy and queasy. She groaned, "Oh, Hospital Wing, please. I feel so sick." Regulus nodded, guiding her up to the castle.

Just outside the Hospital Wing, Sirius approached the pair, eyes wild with worry. "You've missed, breakfast, lunch, all of our classes! Where the bloody hell have you been?" Sirius demanded. "Last any of us saw of you, Remus had spotted you at that bloody Halloween party in the Three Broomsticks, laughing it up with my cousins and Rabastan LeStrange of all bloody people. Then LeStrange was found bloody and half-dead this morning in some alley in Hogsmeade, and you had vanished! What the hell happened?"

"Sirius, calm down," Regulus tried to warn, but the Gryffindor ignored him.

"What happened, Layla?" Sirius repeated.

Nausea overwhelming her, Layla gasped, "Sirius, please. I'm gonna be —"

"Tell me what happened!" Sirius insisted, stepping closer.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Layla let go of Regulus and tried to rush past Sirius in a bid to make it to a rubbish bin in time, but Sirius caught hold of her. She started dry heaving, unable to contain it, and Sirius wrinkled his nose in revulsion, letting go of her immediately and stepping back, shoving her back into Regulus's arms. His younger brother glared at him hatefully as he caught Layla around the waist and supported her, despite his own distaste at her condition. "I warned you," Regulus snarled. "Now will you just get out of the way?"

Sirius stepped to the side, Layla's stomach muscles ceasing contracting as she dropped her head onto Regulus's shoulder. Regulus helped her walk past Sirius, never stopping scowling at his older brother, and the three entered the Hospital Wing. Regulus handed Layla the nearest rubbish bin as she sat down on the nearest empty bed, and she hugged it tightly to her chest, her eyes watering from retching. Sirius followed them in, aggravated. "What happened?" Sirius asked again, this time keeping his distance from Layla and her upset but empty stomach.

Thoroughly annoyed by his persistence, Layla snapped, "Your bloody cousin Narcissa teamed up with LeStrange to set me up to be raped and married off based on some stupid pureblood tradition, all because she thinks I'm the only thing standing between her and marriage to Lucius Malfoy."

Shocked, Sirius said, his voice low, "Come again?"

Regulus snapped, "They hit her with one of those date-rape potions, and LeStrange tried to get it on with her. She couldn't fight back. Malfoy found them and rescued her. I'm guessing that if LeStrange is half-dead, it's highly likely that Malfoy did it. She's sick because of what that bastard LeStrange did to her."

Madame Pomfrey must've overheard the explanation, because she immediately began fussing over Layla, waving her hand and making diagnoses. After a few minutes, she said, "Well, you're definitely not pregnant, luckily for you."

Face flushed, Layla said, more to Sirius than anyone else in the room, "He didn't get that far. So congrats, Sirius, I guess you're not a father at this time." Sirius snorted derisively at her comment, but Regulus grinned wryly, shaking his head. "Sirius, I'm fine," Layla insisted. "Please, just go. Regulus and Madame Pomfrey can take care of me just fine. Go to class; you can catch me up on what I've missed." Sirius hesitated, then nodded, turning on his heel and exiting the room quickly. Regulus sat down on the bed next to Layla as Madame Pomfrey scurried away in search of a potion to give Layla. Layla laid her head on his shoulder, yawning. He wrapped an arm around her and held her securely to him, looking down at her with worried brown eyes. Layla muttered, "I'm all right, Regulus. Really. Stop looking at me like I'm going to break at any moment."

Snorting, Regulus said cheekily, "Well frankly, darling, that'd be much easier to do if you weren't physically falling apart at the seams. You look quite breakable at the moment." Layla laughed quietly at that, certain that it was entirely true. Then Regulus added, "Malfoy told me what you said about your, um, sexual history. He probably shouldn't have, but he did." Layla closed her eyes, biting her lip as her pulse raced in a mix of guilt and horror at the memory. "I just… Are you really sure you're ok?"

Layla sighed as she heard Madame Pomfrey scuttling back toward them. "Yes, I'm sure. It… I hate to put it this way, but it wasn't nearly as bad as when it happened before. The potion… It was horrible of him, but also, I guess it was a bit merciful. I've been fully aware during it before and tried to fight back and… Well, this way I was in and out; I didn't entirely know what was going on, just frightening flashes of things. I couldn't speak; I couldn't even scream. I couldn't fight back in any way, and in a way, I suppose that's a bit of a relief. If he'd managed it, it wouldn't have been in any way my fault. I couldn't have stopped it. When it happened before and I was totally lucid, I blamed myself because I thought I hadn't fought hard enough to get away. I know it still wasn't my fault, but… it's easier not to blame myself when I was drugged. Or at least, not as much…"

Madame Pomfrey interrupted then, forcing Layla to sit up and drink an entire bottle of Pepper-Up Potion, which almost immediately took away her worst symptoms, leaving her simply exhausted beyond belief. Pomfrey instructed her to sleep and not go to class for the next two days but otherwise gave her permission to return to her own dormitory. When the mediwitch left to check on Rabastan, who had apparently been brought to the Hospital Wing as well, Regulus said quietly, "I don't like the idea of sending you up to Ravenclaw alone."

Layla whispered back, "What do you expect me to do, then? I'm not going anywhere near the Slytherin common room, that snake pit…"

Regulus hesitated, but only for a moment. "I could come up to Ravenclaw tower… I know I couldn't stay in your dorm, and I wouldn't want to. But I could just hang out in the common room there during the day while you're just staying there resting until Meadowes can be there with you at night."

"You'll miss your classes," Layla reminded him.

"I don't care. I want to make sure you're safe."

"It's not as though just anyone can get into Ravenclaw tower," Layla said gently.

"Anyone with enough brains can. I know for a fact that Sirius and his gang have done it loads of times. And, if Rabastan's friends decide to try to take revenge on you because of what Malfoy did to him…"

"All right, all right," Layla groaned. "Let's just go then. I'm done arguing. Stay as long as you like; I'm sure my fellow Ravenclaws will just love having a Slytherin hanging around all the time." Regulus rolled his eyes at her sarcasm, smiling and shaking his head, but Layla knew he was relieved she'd said yes.


	5. Chapter 5: Shatter Me

_Somebody shine a light; I'm frozen by the fear in me. Somebody make me feel alive and shatter me._ — _Shatter Me, Lindsey Stirling ft. Lzzy Hale_

* * *

 **November 2, 1977**

"Oh, this is bloody hopeless," Layla growled, throwing the copious amounts of loose yarn and a hook down on the crochet pattern book in her lap in frustration. Regulus chuckled next to her on the soft blue sofa of the Ravenclaw common room. "It's not funny," Layla snapped at him.

This protest only served to make Regulus snicker even harder. "Oh, of course, it's not," Regulus said, trying and failing to keep a straight face. "It's just that, well, you're a witch, and yet you've been confounded by some yarn and a little Muggle hook."

"I _like_ crocheting the Muggle way," Layla snarled. "Doing it with magic takes less time and is easier, but it takes all the pride out of making something yourself. It's cheating."

"All right, but you're just making things harder for yourself," Regulus teased. "You're supposed to be resting and taking it easy, not frustrating yourself to death on some silly project. What even is that thing anyway?"

"It's not silly!" Layla protested animatedly. "It's just my yarn being unusually difficult! And it's _supposed_ to turn into a scarf, but my yarn keeps twisting wrong."

"Mhmm," Regulus hummed, pressing his lips into a tight smile trying to hold in laughter as he wrapped an arm around Layla's shoulders causally, platonically. Scowling, Layla pushed the crafting supplies off her lap onto the couch beside her, settling into Regulus's side with a huff, pulling her feet up beside her on the sofa, kicking the yarn and book further away from her. Layla leaned across Regulus's chest and stole his bottle of Butterbeer from the end table next to their sofa, taking a large swallow of the butterscotch liquid. When she was done, Regulus took the glass bottle from her hand and said, his voice low, "That's mine, you know."

Grinning at him, Layla said cheekily, "I know."

Smiling back at her, Regulus took a sip of the soda before setting it back down on the table. Layla snuggled closer, dropping her head tiredly on Regulus's shoulder as his fingers drummed a calming beat on her arm. They'd spent the last two days on that couch, with Layla spending the majority of the time asleep in some way on top of Regulus while he studied quietly. She would never tell him, of course, but she loved having him staying in her common room. "You shouldn't be missing so many of your classes just to spend time with me," Layla admonished half-heartedly for what felt like the hundredth time in the last forty-eight hours.

Regulus shook his head. "I'm not going back until you do," he said, the same response he always gave. Layla sighed but didn't press it, not truly wanting him to leave. "Want me to get a house elf to bring us dinner again?" Regulus asked.

Layla shook her head. "No, let's go down to dinner," she said, turning her head so her chin rested on his shoulder so that she could look at his face. They'd grown especially comfortable with this sort of physical closeness over the last few days, and it made her feel happier and more relaxed than she had since the Ministry fell and she'd gone on the run with her parents.

Regulus hesitated, his face falling a bit. "Are you sure?" he asked slowly. "I mean, you don't have to yet. No one is really expecting you to be there, and —"

"Regulus," Layla interrupted patiently. "I want to go down for dinner. I want things to go back to normal."

"Sirius is going to bother the hell out of you," Regulus warned.

Chuckling, Layla teased, "Unlike _your_ friends, Sirius is unlikely to be violent. Come on; I'm bored. I love Ravenclaw tower and all, but I need a change of scenery. Let's go to dinner."

"Oh, there you two are again, quarreling like an old married couple as always," Dorcas ribbed as she descended the stairs from the girls' dorms. When she reached the bottom, her brown eyes took in the positioning in which she'd found her two friends, and her grin widened. "Oh, well would you look at that. You're starting to get all cuddly like an old married couple too, eh?" Regulus turned bright red as Layla flushed slightly and leaned away from him. Regulus stood quickly, leaving Layla to fall suddenly into his now empty seat. Layla and Dorcas laughed at his embarrassment. "Oh, relax, Black," Dorcas laughed. "You're two years younger than us. No one is going to think that you two have any sort of romantic relationship."

Regulus bristled slightly at that — Layla could see it in the change in tension of his facial muscles. He didn't say anything, though, as Layla stood up, and she couldn't begin to imagine a reason why that would put him on edge. Too curious, Layla said, "Dorcas, you head on to dinner. We'll catch up." Dorcas shrugged, then strolled out the door to the main corridor. When it shut behind her, Layla spun back to Regulus with a teasing grin. "Why are you so tense?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" Regulus asked gruffly, shoving his things into his bag.

"When Dorcas said no one would believe we were dating, you got all tense," Layla said with a smirk. "Why? Do you want people to believe we're dating?"

Regulus huffed, "Don't be silly."

Layla giggled excitedly. "Oh Merlin, you do, don't you?"

Thoroughly annoyed, Regulus snapped, "I don't have a crush on you, Layla, all right?"

"I didn't say you did," Layla grinned. "Just that you'd like for people to believe we were dating."

"Well, honestly, yeah," Regulus grumbled. "It would certainly make it a hell of a lot easier to protect you from people like LeStrange if they knew they had me to contend with if anything happened to you."

"LeStrange knew he had Malfoy to contend with for hurting me, and look what happened there anyway," Layla said, the teasing gone from her demeanor.

Regulus shook his head. "I just don't care for the way everyone looks at you, all right?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean Sirius and LeStrange and all those other bloody bastards in your year," Regulus said angrily, his hands shaking so hard that he almost dropped his Potions textbook as he tried to shove it into his bag. "I don't like how they look at you like you're…"

"Like I'm what?" Layla pushed.

"Like you're just another skirt for them to get into," Regulus growled, his tone menacing enough to give Layla pause. "Like you're just another slag for them to shag. It's just… you're just fresh meat to them. Every other girl in this school they grew up with; they know them too well. But you, you're brand new, you're pretty, you're a mystery. And that's why all these stupid boys in your year are obsessed with getting in your pants; you're just a novelty to them. I don't like it; I just don't like it."

"Regulus," Layla said mildly, placing her hand on his trembling arm, attempting to calm him. "There's nothing you can do that'll change that, and the 'novelty' as you call it will wear off eventually."

Regulus laughed darkly. "I could always kill them."

Layla shook her head. "You won't, though. You're not like that."

"You don't know that," Regulus snarled.

"Come on, Regulus," Layla started, but he interrupted her.

"No, Layla. For you…" Regulus shook his head, a quick, humorless laugh escaping him. "I could easily kill for you."

Layla shook her head. "I don't believe that. You're not like that."

Regulus shrugged, the movement knocking her hand from his arm. "Fine, don't believe me. Forget all of this, then. Let's just get dinner."

"Regulus —"

"I'm not saying I'm in love with you or anything," Regulus said, eyes blazing as he stared Layla down.

Layla nodded. "I – I know," she said in the most soothing voice she could.

"We both know that the only reason LeStrange and Malfoy want anything to do with you is so they can get you pregnant," Regulus said heatedly. "They just want you to carry on their family names. They don't actually care about you. Malfoy just thinks you'll give his descendants more powerful magic, and LeStrange just wants you because Malfoy does, and he wants to get there first."

"I'm sure you're right."

"And Sirius is just an ass who'll take advantage of anyone at the slightest opportunity," Regulus continued bitterly. "Just like all of his little Gryffindor friends. They don't actually care about you or want to keep you around. They just want to have a little fun in bed with you and then leave you."

Layla nodded quickly, struggling to find a way to calm Regulus down. "Yes, yes, you're right."

"Sirius always gets what he wants, though," Regulus rambled, seemingly unable to stop himself. "He wants you. I can see it in his face every time he looks at you. He wants you, and he doesn't deserve you. He doesn't treat you right; none of them do…"

"Regulus, where is all this coming from?" Layla asked quietly, placing soothing hands on each of his biceps.

Regulus shook his head. "I just…"

When Regulus didn't continue, Layla said quietly, "Don't worry about it now, Regulus. Let's just go to dinner, ok?" Regulus nodded and took her hand in his, letting her lead him out of Ravenclaw tower and down to the Great Hall. When they entered the room, the entire hall went silent with everyone turning to stare at the pair of them. Layla said under her breath, "Ignore them, Regulus."

Regulus nodded, and the two walked over to sit next to each other at the Ravenclaw table. As the murmur of conversation began to fill the hall again, Sirius plopped into the seat across from them, dropping a large pile of parchment in front of Layla. "Class notes," he said coldly. "Are you two dating now?" he asked, staring pointedly at her hand still clasped in his younger brother's.

Layla let go of Regulus's hand as she took the notes from the table and placed them in the empty seat on the bench beside her. "No, we're not," Layla said, just as coldly. "Thank you for the notes, Sirius."

"Yeah, sure," Sirius mumbled. "You know," he said, dropping some of his irritability in favor of flirtatious charm. "My offer to take you to Hogsmeade still stands."

"What offer?" Regulus asked Layla, shocked.

Layla sighed. "I'd actually forgotten about it in all the chaos. I told Sirius that Malfoy had boxed me into a date with him the next Hogsmeade weekend, and Sirius insisted that I blow off Malfoy and go with him instead."

Snorting, Regulus sneered, "Yeah, that's likely to happen."

"It's a lot more likely than her going with you," Sirius snapped. "Why do you keep hanging around him, anyway? He's going to be a Death Eater one of these days, you know. You just watch; he always does whatever mummy dearest says."

"Oh, shut up, Sirius," Layla said tiredly. "I happen to like Regulus very much. I care about him, so shove off."

"You _care_ about him?" Sirius mocked. "Well, I suppose that's all it takes for a happy relationship, isn't it? Nevermind that you despise everything he believes in."

"Sirius?" Sirius paused his irritated ramblings at Layla's voice. "Shut up, and go away," Layla said aloofly. Sirius growled in frustration but started to walk away anyway. "Oh, and Sirius?" He stopped, turning around slowly and raising an aggravated eyebrow at her. "You can take this as a no to your offer of a date." Sirius shook his head, turning on his heel and storming out of the Great Hall, his three best friends jumping up from the Gryffindor table and rushing after him.

Regulus was frowning when Layla turned back to look at him. He leaned in closer and whispered, "Are you sure you want to cast your lot in with mine? I mean, I know you and Sirius annoy the bloody hell out of each other, but I mean, you've slept together and all before… It's just, his beliefs line up a lot more with yours than mine do. He's right; I'm most likely going to end up a Death Eater, and he definitely won't… He'd be able to protect you from those people, from that life…"

"Regulus," Layla interrupted. "It's been my experience that the Order of the Phoenix is absolutely bloody terrible at protecting their own. And I know you don't _really_ want me to be with your brother."

"He's got a good point though. Why me? Why spend so much time with me? I mean, if you're really just looking for safety from someone opposite from the Order, then Malfoy's your man, and he's more than willing to take on the task. Bloody hell, he'd marry you in a heartbeat, give you all the money, status, and safety you could ever possibly dream of, so why waste your time hanging around me?"

"Because I bloody like you, Regulus," Layla said impatiently. "You're my friend. I care about you, a lot. And why are you suddenly trying to push me into the arms of the same men who upstairs you were so angry over how they looked at me you were willing to kill them to protect me from them?"

Regulus sighed. "I don't… I just don't think that… Dorcas is right," he huffed. "No one would ever believe us as a couple, would they?"

Layla shifted slightly in her seat, blushing slightly as Regulus dished out a plate of shepherd's pie for her. Picking up her fork, Layla said quietly, "I suppose not, but honestly, I guess you're the closest thing I have to a family right now. I could more easily see us as brother and sister."

Regulus froze, the serving spoon halfway between its original dish and his plate. "You – you could —" he began, but the cry of an owl interrupted them as a large black owl swooped down on them, landing on Regulus's shoulder. Regulus took a card from it, then the bird took off. He ripped it open and his dark eyes sped over the lines on it quickly, then he tucked it into his bag and tried to go back to the conversation. "Are you sure you… you really don't have to, you know. There are better blokes out there than me… I've never been good at the whole brother thing…"

"What was in that card?" Layla asked, concerned that its contents had left Regulus so obviously shaken. He wasn't the type to lose his cool, collected demeanor easily, no matter how upset he was, so if he was upset enough to start babbling rather nonsensically, there must be something truly, horribly wrong.

"Nothing," Regulus said quickly, dropping the spoonful of shepherd's pie back into the casserole dish, picking up a fork and eating off Layla's plate instead of dishing up some for himself.

"It must've been something," Layla pressed. "You're absolutely shaking."

"It's nothing," Regulus insisted, but Layla reached across him and stole the card out of his bag. He tried to take it back from her, but she'd already managed to open it and read it.

"This is a birthday card from your parents," Layla mumbled. "It says that you're to come home as soon as possible and —" Layla trailed off, the card shaking in her hands now as well.

"Yeah, I turned sixteen today," Regulus grumbled, snatching taking the card from Layla. "And yes, apparently my mother is now insisting that I take the Dark Mark as soon as possible."

"You – you can't," Layla breathed. "Oh, please, don't."

Regulus sighed. "We've talked about this. I don't want to, but I have no choice, or at least not any that don't end with me dead."

"I've got a feeling that you'll end up dead far too young either way," Layla begged. "Please, don't do this."

"Layla, I'm sorry," Regulus whispered back. "I don't have any choice. I'm sorry."

Layla shook her head. "I'm not hungry anymore," she said. "Can we go back to the tower?" Regulus nodded, grabbing the plate and fork and taking it with them as he followed Layla from the Great Hall, certain that she'd get hungry again later.

* * *

 **November 19, 1977**

Once Layla had returned to class, Regulus had begun to avoid her, leaving Layla feeling lonelier than she had since the start of term. She filled the void by spending as much time studying in the library with Remus as possible, but as she soon discovered, Remus came with James, Sirius, and Peter as well, and she found she didn't care as much for their company as she'd thought she would, particularly Peter and Sirius. All she ever wanted to talk about was schoolwork, but all the Marauder boys seemed to want to discuss was the war, pranks against the Slytherins, and trying to separate Layla from Malfoy and Regulus, which got on her last nerve. Quidditch practices had also begun, and with that now filling her afternoons and evenings, she was never more thoroughly tired, mentally and physically, in her life. Malfoy was still writing her regularly and sending her care packages, and if she were honest with herself, she'd come to depend on that. Not only had she put on an extra pound or two from the weekly box of snacks that he was sending her, but since the Halloween rescue, she'd also started writing back to his letters. She hated to admit it, but as she started finally letting herself get to know Malfoy, she found herself beginning to actually like him — but only a little bit, and she still refused to own up to liking him.

The nearest Hogsmeade weekend arrived, far too quickly for Layla's taste, along with her date with Lucius Malfoy. She was absolutely clueless about what to expect from him, but she felt fairly determined that she wouldn't be having a good time, no matter what he did. As she left the warm castle and entered the cold, snowy grounds of Hogwarts, she tightened her Ravenclaw scarf around her neck, shivering at both the chill in the air and the pang of loneliness she felt at not having Regulus by her side as usual.

By the time Layla made it to the Three Broomsticks, her gray trousers (because Malfoy had only bought her nice clothes and no casual clothes like jeans, much to Layla's chagrin), were soaked almost to her knees from the snow that was still gently falling, her peacoat, while still warm, was equally drenched, and her red beret left her ears exposed, red, and stinging. She stomped her boots — with heels she thought ridiculously high for a snow day, yet still the shortest she had — as she entered the pub, muttering under her breath in annoyance with her wardrobe that was far more pretty than functional as Lucius Malfoy swept down on her, removing her beret and helping her out of her coat as she struggled to stay warm. She growled at him as he took her coat. He raised an eyebrow at her hostility, so she said through chattering teeth, "These bloody clothes are absolutely bloody ridiculous. Only things to keep me totally bloody warm were the bloody dragonhide gloves. These aren't proper winter clothes, damn it."

Malfoy grinned slightly as he realized there was such a simple source to Layla's intense frustration with him. "All right, calm down, my dearest," Malfoy said, shocking Layla by leaning down and giving her a quick peck on top of her head. "Calm yourself. I'll attend to it."

Layla hesitated, the annoyance of the previous moment suddenly flooding out of her, overtaken by a sense that maybe Malfoy really would take care of her problem for her. Struggling to maintain her aggravation, she said, "Well, what about these bloody shoes? What kind of woman wears high heels in the bloody snow? It's absolutely ridiculous. I mean, really, who do you think I am? Marjorie Reynolds?"

"Who?"

Layla shook her head. "Nevermind. She's the girl from _Holiday Inn_ ; I should've known you of all people wouldn't know who she is."

Malfoy sighed, wrapping an arm around her and guiding her to their table. "I'm sorry about the shoes, my dear. I'll make certain you have more appropriate ones by the end of our meal."

"How?" Layla asked as Malfoy helped her into her seat.

"The house elf, of course; how else?" Malfoy said, mimicking Layla's own tone of frustration at his earlier lack of knowledge of the Muggle world as he took his seat across from her. "Dobby!"

A loud crack made Layla flinch, then there was Dobby the house elf, dressed in a warm looking but a bit threadbare blanket that day, standing next to Malfoy's chair. "Yes, Master Malfoy?" Dobby asked.

"Layla will be requiring more snow appropriate clothing and shoes," Malfoy said coldly to the elf. "At least one outfit, along with a new pair of shoes, is to be delivered here before our meal is over." After a short pause, he added, "Perhaps some Muggle winter clothes would suit our friend a bit more in this sort of weather." Layla couldn't help the slight smile on her face. She had noticed that Malfoy seemed to despise Muggle fashions, so the significance of the compromise did not escape her notice. The elf disapparated with another loud pop that hurt Layla's ears, but she continued to smile shyly at Malfoy anyway. "I do hope this solution is to your satisfaction?" he said with the typical Malfoy smirk.

Rolling her eyes, Layla said, "I suppose so." After a pause, she added, "Thank you, Malfoy."

"You're welcome," Malfoy said smugly. The pair ate their lunch with very little conversation until Dobby reappeared practically buried under a pair of blue jeans, a thick cozy sweater, wool socks, and a proper pair of Muggle snow boots. Layla grinned, snatching the clothes from the small elf and rushing off to change in the restroom. As she pulled the last item, the cashmere sweater the color of red wine, over her head, she felt possibly the most relaxed in her clothes than she had since she'd first met the young Lucius Malfoy, and she breathed a long sigh of relief at the feeling of jeans on her legs once again. When she rejoined Malfoy by the door to the pub, his eyes glanced up and down her, appraising her, before he said disdainfully, "You look utterly Muggle." Layla's eyes narrowed at him, and she prepared to make a retort, but then he added quietly, "But you also look utterly adorable, my dearest." Layla felt her cheeks heat as she snapped her mouth shut, fighting a smile at the compliment. Malfoy led her out into the street, where the snow had ceased falling at long last, as he asked, "Is there anywhere here that you would like to go this afternoon before we head to London?"

Frowning, Layla repeated, "London?"

Malfoy chuckled at her confusion. "Yes, London." He pulled her flush against his chest, looking down at her with a gentle smile that completely disarmed Layla. Caught so far off guard, Layla relaxed into Malfoy's embrace, allowing him to support her weight. "I've planned an evening in London for us tonight. Now, is there anything else you'd like to do here in Hogsmeade before we leave for London?"

Layla thought for a moment. "Well…" Layla said slowly, hesitating.

Malfoy tucked a stray wave of black hair behind Layla's ear. "Anything your heart desires, my dearest, and it's yours," Malfoy murmured.

Layla felt a tingle shoot down her spine when he touched her hair, and she blushed even harder. She shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other as she said, "Well, I could use a broom for Quidditch. Eventually, I won't be able to borrow Regulus's anymore because he'll need it."

"Of course!" Malfoy exclaimed. "I should have thought of that myself. Come along, then."

An hour later, Malfoy and Layla were walking out of Quality Quidditch Supplies with Dobby behind them carrying Layla's new Nimbus 1988 along with everything she could possibly need to care for her new broomstick and then some. Layla had tried to carry her purchases herself, but Malfoy insisted on Dobby carrying them. As they left the shop, there was a loud crack, and Layla spun around to realize Dobby was gone. "Where did he…?"

Malfoy answered, "To your dormitory, of course, to drop off your things. I'm sure he's done the same with the rest of your new winter wardrobe."

As Layla nodded, a shout made Layla jump and tighten her grip on Malfoy's left arm, only then fully aware that she was even holding onto his arm in the first place. "Malfoy!" The older man turned with a look of controlled annoyance to face Sirius Black, who was crossing the street toward them, Remus Lupin and James Potter only a few steps behind him. Remus looked particularly concerned, whether by Sirius's behavior or Layla's company, she wasn't sure. "Let her go, Malfoy," Sirius growled.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at the younger man. "Why would I do that?" he said disdainfully, as calm and collected as ever.

"She doesn't want to be with you," Sirius snarled. "Let her go."

"Sirius," Layla hissed, but he ignored her.

"She's not your property, Malfoy," Sirius sneered, ignoring Layla's warning. "I'm proof of that."

"Oh, you mean the way you took advantage of her vulnerability under Veritaserum and stole her away to your bed? Yes, I've heard all about that. If I recall, you left her feeling anything but wanted, which is exactly the opposite of how I plan to make her feel," Malfoy said, grinning smugly as he slipped a hand around Layla's petite waist and pulled her against his side, which Layla, oddly enough, felt no need to resist.

Sirius glowered at the way Malfoy held Layla as he said, slipping into his old pureblood family haughty attitude himself, "Well, then you're aware how things work in the pureblood world. I'm a pureblood, and I've slept with her. She's as good as married to me. You have no right to her."

Layla gaped at Sirius in shock, horrified at his words. "Sirius, don't be ridiculous," Layla snapped. "You can't just —"

"According to the rules that Malfoy there lives by, I can," Sirius smirked.

"Sirius," James cautioned, far too late as usual. As always, he was too amused by Sirius's fight to see it getting out of hand until it was too late to stop him.

Malfoy laughed, "You can't seriously expect to lay any sort of claim on Layla so many months after you slept with her. She's obviously not pregnant, and you were disowned by your family, so as far as any of us are concerned, you're not even a pureblood anymore. Our rules on sex and marriage don't apply to blood traitors like you, do they?"

Desperate to get the upper hand, Sirius taunted, "Yes, because you're obviously so concerned about blood status, Malfoy. I'm sure you're as aware as I am of Layla's _natural_ blood status. What makes you think your precious Dark Lord will allow you to marry a Mug—"

"Enough, Sirius!" Layla exclaimed, horrified at what he was about to say so publicly. "Enough! Please, just stop."

Turning his full attention on Layla, Sirius demanded, "Don't go with him, Layla. Remember what he's done? Remember who he is? Remember the way you were absolutely terrified of this Death Eater just a few weeks ago?"

"Sirius, please, stop," Layla pleaded, but as usual, Sirius ignored her and continued to push.

"Damn it, Layla, I care too much about you to let you go with him," Sirius snapped. "He'll destroy you, and you know it. You _fear_ him."

"He's protected me," Layla defended, more a defense of herself and her right to choose her own life than of Malfoy himself. "He's protected me over and over again."

"He's protecting his asset," Sirius sneered. "He just wants you to be the future mother of his children."

Malfoy leaned down slightly and whispered in her ear, "What would be so terrible about being the mother of my children, hmm? You'd be so loved and cared for. You'd never be left alone again. Can he promise you that? That you'll never be alone again?" Layla hesitated, and she noticed the panic that appeared in Sirius's eyes as he realized that he might be losing.

Sirius begged, "Layla, don't listen to him. He's a Death Eater, remember? He's one of the people that murdered your parents."

Layla shook her head hard at that as horror film worthy images forced their way to the front of her mind. "Don't, Sirius," she mumbled, her head spinning. "He's not. He wasn't there." She leaned against Malfoy's side as her head began to feel light, and he supported her easily.

"You'd never see the Muggle world again with him," Sirius pressed. "Your parents' world, Layla. I can give you that. We could be part of the Muggle world together. Just leave him."

"Enough, Black," Malfoy said coldly, his voice carrying a weight of authority that surprised Layla. Turning his face to look down at her, Malfoy practically crooned, with such gentleness that she found herself surprised once again, "Are you ready to leave?"

As Layla nodded, Sirius said, desperation leaking into his voice, "Layla, wait, leave? Where are you —"

Sirius's voice was cut off by the sudden pop of being pulled along for a side-along apparation. Layla's ears rang for a moment as she landed, surprisingly gently, on the cracked sidewalk of an abandoned street in London. A nearby stray cat hissed at the sudden appearance of the witch and wizard, but as Layla searched the alley for the small creature, Malfoy ignored it, his entire focus on Layla. She tried to leave his arms in favor of finding the lost cat, staring intently at a nearby set of rubbish bins that seemed a likely hiding place, but Malfoy held onto her tightly, using his free hand to pull her face around to look at him. Shocked into compliance by the intensity of his blue eyes, Layla stilled as he looked her up and down, reassuring himself that he hadn't accidentally splinched her. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

Layla nodded. "I'm all right," she mumbled. As an afterthought, she added, "I'm sorry. About Sirius. I'm sorry."

Malfoy shook his head, taking a breath. "He's always had a temper, but he's certainly nothing I can't handle."

Layla couldn't help the question that escaped her then. "Is he right? Is he right about you though? About never seeing the Muggle world again?" Before Malfoy could answer, Layla babbled on, "Oh, Merlin, he's right, isn't he? I mean, you're a Death Eater! He's right; You-Know-Who would never allow any of that stuff, would he? Seeing the Muggle world could never be an option! Hell, he'd never let me be anything to you, certainly nothing remotely close to the mother of your children, and what nonsense that idea is! He'll kill me the minute he sees me, a stupid little mudblood like me…"

"Stop!" Malfoy insisted, pulling her closer to him. His hand caressed her face tenderly, tangling in her black hair occasionally as it got in his way. "Please, stop that now," Malfoy repeated, his voice lowering to a more soothing timbre. "That will never happen. First of all, you're _not_ a stupid little mudblood or anything close to that. Secondly, the Dark Lord won't kill you. He believes you're a halfblood. Not to mention, you have my protection, which you should know by now gives you a lot more leeway with the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters than you seem to realize. As far as seeing the Muggle world again goes, why don't you take a better look at where we're standing? It's certainly not Diagon Alley, now, is it?"

Layla paused, glancing around them once again. She didn't recognize this part of London, certainly not from an alleyway, but the neighborhood certainly did have a decidedly Muggle look about it. She walked away from Malfoy, and this time he let her, following closely behind her as she reached the entrance to the side street. He took her hand as she took in the main street around her. It wasn't much, but it was clearly a more upscale part of town. Her eyes then landed on a building across the street with a sign out front. "A tango club?" she said, surprised.

Malfoy took her hand. "That is our destination for tonight, pending your approval," Malfoy said, his usual proud grin returning to his lips as he said so, fully aware of Layla's increasing excitement.

"That – that sounds brilliant," Layla said quickly. "But umm..." She glanced down at the Muggle clothes, so incredibly warm and comfortable, yet so casual. "I'm not exactly dressed for it."

Malfoy chuckled. "That's so easily remedied, my dearest," he said, his tone slightly teasing.

Layla thought for a moment. "All right, but I want to do something first."

"What's that?"

"Let's go ice skating at the Natural History Museum," Layla answered, smiling shyly up at Malfoy. "My parents and I go there every Christmas to skate, and —" She cut herself off suddenly as the cold harsh wrench of sadness mixed with loneliness filled her chest, nearly crushing her lungs, her eyes dropping to Malfoy's strong chest.

Malfoy squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Of course, we'll go," he said kindly. She looked back up at him, surprised as always by the tiniest acts of kindness from Lucius Malfoy. He pulled her close again, disapparating once more to reappear in an alley just a block away from the museum. The outdoor ice rink was beautiful with its massive Christmas tree in the middle of the ice, people skating all around it. Malfoy bought the tickets and skates for them, and as they changed from their shoes to the skates, Malfoy slipped his wand from his pocket and subtly pointed it at both pairs of skates, muttering under his breath, "Scourgify." Layla raised an eyebrow at him as he slipped his wand back into his pocket, and he shrugged. "Can't be too careful."

Rolling her eyes at him, Layla tied on her skates and stepped out onto the ice, Malfoy hesitating behind her. Layla did a lap around the Christmas tree, only to realize when she came back around that Malfoy still wasn't on the ice. She skated up to him, allowing her toe pick to pull her to a sudden stop in front of him, startling him. She giggled at that, asking, "What's the matter? Haven't you ever been ice skating before?"

Malfoy huffed, his pride injured by her astute observation. "No, I haven't. It's not the most popular activity in proper wizarding society," Malfoy said, sneering a little as he glanced around. "It's more a Muggle activity."

"Well, since I'm Muggleborn," Layla said, taking Malfoy's hand and tugging him out onto the ice. "I suppose you ought to get used to it. You keep insisting we'd make a good match, talking about kids and nonsense. Any kids of mine will know how to ice skate."

Malfoy shook his head slightly, huffing. He was surprisingly solid on his feet for a first-time skater. Layla grinned, skating backward and still holding his hand, tugging him along with her. "You're going to run into someone going backward like that," Malfoy warned.

Layla laughed. "Yes, well, if I do, I'm sure you won't let me fall."

When she sensed that Malfoy was feeling more confident in his abilities, Layla let go of his hand and sped away. He was smiling as he watched her lap the rink. She felt a sense of normalcy that had been missing for quite some time, that she was only just now realizing was due to a lack of a connection to her roots in the Muggle world. "You're quite good," Malfoy said as she stopped in front of him.

Layla replied, "My mom and I loved to watch figure skating competitions together. I wasn't even close to good enough to be a figure skater myself, but my parents took me to the rink here every year for Christmas to let me pretend I was as a child, and it just sort of became a tradition."

Malfoy smiled softly at her, her cheeks flushed from cold and exertion. "That's a nice tradition," he said quietly. "Perhaps we can continue it from now on."

Layla shivered, whether from the cold of the ice around her or the idea of a future with Malfoy, she couldn't be sure. "That would be lovely," she said softly, for a moment not entirely certain the moment was even real.

The duo skated for the rest of their hour, though Malfoy spent the majority of the time standing at the edge of the rink simply watching Layla skate around the many Muggles who were also skating there. When she was done, Malfoy had her change back into the now-dry clothes she'd first worn to meet him in Hogsmeade and took her to some fancy French restaurant that Layla imagined was too expensive to possibly still have been open by the time she was born (she began to develop a serious headache when she got lost on the mental rabbit trail of remembering that her birthday didn't technically come for a few more years).

At the end of dinner, Malfoy apparated them back to the tango club and led her inside. The dark drawl of violins greeted them as he led her onto the dance floor, drawing her in until their bodies were flush against each other. His hand splayed over the ball of her shoulder, and he dragged the palm of his hand down her arm until his fingers ghosted across the back of her hand. He nuzzled the opposite side of her neck, his breath hot on her skin and making her shiver, as his right hand slipped under her arm and landed sensually on her waist. His left hand left the back of her hand, covering her hip with it, then he lightly trailed his hand down the back of her leg, pulling it slightly up in the process, until he could hook his hand behind her knee. Suddenly, he yanked her leg up to his hip, making Layla gasp and lean against him. Her body was flooding with hormones that left her hot and breathing heavily as Malfoy smirked into her neck, completely aware of what he was doing to her. He breathed, "Layla, I want you to marry me. When you come home for Christmas, marry me."

Layla thought about it for a moment, but panic seized her heart from some hidden place in her mind. She recoiled from him, dropping her leg, taking three steps back as the sensation, for no apparent reason, brought back the worst sort of memories of Snatchers and dementors and Azkaban and her so-called "visit" to Malfoy Manor. She stepped back from Malfoy, and when her eyes found his again, he was more confused and worried than she'd expected. She shook her head hard as he tried to pull her back to him, extricating herself from his grasp. "No," Layla said. "Please, don't."

"Layla," Malfoy said patiently, offering his hand to her.

Now hyperalert and suspicious, Layla asked, "Why did you bring me here?"

"Because I knew you'd love it," Malfoy answered easily, allowing his hand to fall, but Layla's eyes remained narrowed.

"How did you know?"

Brows furrowed in confusion, Malfoy said, "Honestly, I guessed. Don't most girls find dancing wildly romantic?" Layla took another step backward as Malfoy took another step closer to her. "I'm not going to hurt you, Layla. I'll never hurt you; you must know that by now."

"You're a Death Eater," Layla reminded him. "How am I supposed to trust you?"

Malfoy sighed. "My dear, if I'd wanted to hurt you, I would've taken the chance the moment you appeared in my home with your time turner, bloodied and weak and entirely vulnerable. Why would I bother to help you create a life in this time and place if I'd only intended to hurt you eventually? Why would I protect you from harm from people like Rabastan LeStrange and Narcissa Black if I was only intending on torturing you myself? Why on earth would I ask you to marry me, fully knowing that the safest place you could ever hope to be is at my side as my wife, if all the while I was harboring secret desires for your demise? It's completely ridiculous."

"Creating a false sense of security?" Layla suggested weakly.

Malfoy laughed humorlessly at that. "Don't be absurd. What purpose would that serve? Dearest, I'm a Death Eater, as you are so fond of reminding me. I've had you at my total mercy more than once. I could have easily taken anything I liked from you or caused you pain at any time I liked, so why would I bother to lull you in a false sense of security?" Layla shook her head, starting to feel stupid, realizing that perhaps she had overreacted without even so much as a trigger. Maybe her fears really were all inside her own mind.

Malfoy took another step closer, and Layla allowed it this time, so he placed his hands on her shoulders lightly, doing his best not to spook her again. She blinked back unwanted tears that were welling in her eyes, her face burning hot as she realized she should've known by now that Malfoy had no intention of ever hurting her. Writing her every day she was at school with an endless list of questions about her life before she'd accidentally time-traveled, the weekly care packages that grew more specific to her tastes with each delivery, the clothes, the schoolbooks… He'd gone far out of his way to care for her, to ensure her safety, and even to make her happy, and she felt incredibly foolish for doubting him. Yes, maybe he was attempting to merely woo her into a marriage with him to somehow strengthen the magic of his bloodline, but he also had shown on multiple occasions that he did genuinely care about her wellbeing as well. Another step closer, hand extended again, Malfoy asked, his voice softer now, making it difficult to hear over the slow and sensual tango music, "Do you believe me now?"

Layla took a shaky deep breath, then nodded and took his hand. "Yes."

Malfoy let out a small sigh of relief. "Good. So, now that we've reassured you once more, what is your answer?"

Frowning, Layla said, "Answer? Answer to what?"

Rolling his eyes, Malfoy said, "To my proposal, of course. I did just ask you to marry me, in case you'd forgotten."

Layla hesitated. "I… I don't know…"

Malfoy inhaled, slow and deep, then breathed out a heavy sigh. "You don't have to answer now. Think about it. Perhaps I've asked too soon, but I wanted to try to get married as soon as possible because…" He trailed off, his blue eyes screaming that he was holding something back.

Not entirely sure she wanted to know the answer, Layla asked, "What's happening?"

Malfoy took her by the arm and led her out of the tango club into the dimly lit, freezing cold street. "Well, obviously the Dark Lord has heard of you by now. You've officially garnered his interest, and he has been continuously asking me questions about you. It's one of many reasons I've been trying so hard to get to know you, but you since you typically ignore all my owls, I'm usually left to rely on what Regulus can tell me about you." Layla started to protest Malfoy using her best friend to spy on her, but Malfoy cut her off before she could do more than open her mouth. "Don't get angry with Regulus over that. We're just trying to protect you, Layla. The Dark Lord's very suspicious of your sudden appearance in our lives, but he wants to recruit you nonetheless. He knows obviously that his Death Eaters would have never gone all the way to America to murder your parents when they were not even on his radar, particularly without his orders. He suspects that I was covering for you with the Ministry, that you might have been the one who murdered your parents."

"How could I have —"

"That's not the issue here," Malfoy snapped. "Then you just had to go and cast the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix bloody LeStrange back at Halloween. She _likes_ you now, did you know that? Apparently, she's a fan of your spellwork. She's been begging the Dark Lord to bring you into the fold; she's always telling him that you're a powerful witch, how brilliant an asset you'd be to him, how much her cousin Regulus adores you, and he's listening. The Dark Lord has been suggesting that I ought to convince you to take the Dark Mark."

"No!" Layla exclaimed. "Never! Besides, the moment he sees the scars on my arm… he'd kill me rather than mark me."

"Of course, you're not going to take the Dark Mark," Malfoy said reassuringly. "I would never allow the situation to escalate that far. That's why we ought to get married as soon as possible. I won't… I won't pressure you into something that you don't want, sex, kids… it can all wait, or if it never comes then… well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, but I want you to be safe. I would very much like it if we could eventually fall in love with each other, but for now, I feel we need to hurry things along so that we can have the chance to love each other later."

Layla floundered for an articulate response. She would have never expected him to say any of that, and now that he had, how was she supposed to reconcile that with everything else she'd always known and been told about the man from the time she was a second year until now? "Malfoy, I — it's so — I don't even know you."

"I don't exactly know you well either," Malfoy said calmly. "But people have been marrying to secure their futures to people they've never even met for centuries, but most end up falling in love with each other and happy together anyway, don't they?"

Layla snorted. "Isn't that just in Jane Austen novels?"

Brow furrowing, Malfoy asked, "Who's Jane Austen?"

Layla shook her head. "Oh, nevermind. The point is that it seems to be a bit of a fantasy, that we could fall in love after getting married, isn't it?"

"Perhaps," Malfoy said. "But it's a risk I'm willing to take. Are you?"

She hesitated again. "I don't know, Malfoy. I don't…"

"You don't have to answer now, remember that," Malfoy reminded her. "Let me take you back to Hogwarts now, then go up to your dorm and just think on it. I'll be at your Quidditch game next weekend. If you feel ready to answer by then, then brilliant, but if not, it's all right." Layla sighed but nodded, certain that arguing any further with Malfoy would be useless. She let him lead her into the dark alleyway, pull her into his arms in a tight embrace, then disapparated, landing just outside the gates of Hogwarts. Malfoy leaned down and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek, muttering in her ear, "Goodbye, my dearest. Be safe." He stepped back and disapparated with a pop, leaving Layla totally alone to walk back up to the castle.


	6. Chapter 6: Angel with a Shotgun

_I'm an angel with a shotgun fighting till the war's won. I don't care if heaven won't take me back. I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe. Don't you know you're everything I have? – Angel with a Shotgun, the Cab_

* * *

 **November 20, 1977**

The next morning at breakfast, Layla sat down at the Slytherin table next to Regulus. He raised both eyebrows at her when she did, as she rarely dared to approach his house's table, but it was the only sign of surprise that he gave her. Layla knew that Regulus usually sat at the Slytherin table as a method of avoiding her, but she didn't care today. She immediately slipped her arms around his waist immediately, forcing his arm around her, a little surprised he didn't protest. She was surprised, however, when his left forearm touched her shoulder and she felt him flinch hard, jerking his arm away from her. Eyes widening, she pulled back from her, glancing quickly between his arm and his eyes in horror. Regulus sighed, then asked as a method of distraction, "How was your date with Malfoy yesterday?"

"Brilliant," Layla said sarcastically, not willing to fall for his usual methods of diversion this time. "Is something wrong with your arm?"

Regulus shook his head, his denial coming too quickly for Layla to believe him. "No, nothing's wrong. Tell me about your date," he said. "How was Malfoy? What did you do?"

"Lunch at the Three Broomsticks, Quidditch supplies, ice skating, dinner, dancing," Layla listed quickly. "Now tell me about your day yesterday. What did you do?"

Regulus took a deep breath and held it as he slapped a pile of French toast slices onto Layla's plate. "Nothing really," he said, his voice tight. "Practiced for the upcoming Quidditch game. "Which you ought to consider doing, by the way, since your first game is this weekend."

"Moss has team practices scheduled down at the pitch this afternoon and every other day this week," Layla said, brushing aside his comment even as Regulus forced a fork into her hand. She ignored the implement and pressed him, lowering her voice, "What's wrong with your arm?"

Hissing slightly when the fabric of his sleeve rubbed against her back, Regulus tossed his arm around Layla again, pulling her tightly to his side and growling in her ear, "Layla, please, _stop_. I'm begging you, stop. Let it go."

Layla whispered back, "You know I can't do that. You took it, didn't you? You took the mark?"

"Shut up, Layla, _please_ ," Regulus begged, his gray eyes pleading desperately. "Leave it alone, for Merlin's sake."

"You know I can't."

"Why the bloody hell not?"

"Because you matter to me!" Layla hissed. "Because I need to know whether or not you've been a complete and total idiot. I need to be able to protect you if something… if something bad happens."

"Why would you want to protect me of all people? Especially if…"

"Because like I've said, you're the closest thing to a bloody family I've got, you tosser," Layla said, exasperated. "And damn it, if I have to protect you, then I'm going to protect you, come what may."

"And how exactly are you going to protect me?" Regulus scoffed. "You can't even protect yourself. You don't trust anyone."

"I trust you," Layla snapped. "You're the only bloody person I can trust completely, I think. And then there's…" Layla hesitated.

Regulus raised an eyebrow at her, surprised she might include someone else. "No, do go on. Who else has won your trust? Don't tell me it's my bloody idiot of a brother."

Layla shook her head. "Of course not. That git has lost my trust for good… The whole Order of the Phoenix isn't trustworthy, really."

Regulus said lowly, "Then who else is it that you seem to think you might trust? A bloody Muggle?"

Layla snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. I don't know any Muggles anymore. Not here." She took a breath, then admitted, "Lucius Malfoy. Of all the bloody people on the bloody planet, I think I might actually be able to trust Lucius Malfoy."

Regulus smirked. "The only two people in the world you trust are a pair of Death Eaters. What happened to hating Death Eaters more than anything in the world?"

"I still do hate the Death Eaters, as a whole," Layla said quietly. "But you two are different. You've earned my trust. Besides, eventually, I was going to have to trust someone. I think I've made the right choice." After a moment of silence as Regulus dug back into his breakfast, Layla pressed, "So, you did take it last night, huh?"

Regulus groaned, dropping his fork, vexed, then confessed, "Yes. I did. Bellatrix practically kidnapped me from Hogsmeade last night, and, well… it went from there. I didn't have a choice if I wanted to live." He stared at Layla with hard, questioning eyes that made her think he was doing his best to try to make her fear him, but all he accomplished was accidentally showing her the fear in his own eyes. "Are you ok with that? Do – do you hate me for it?"

Layla shook her head, not backing down from the staring contest. "I'm glad you're alive. I wouldn't have wanted you to die to stay out of their clutches. Not now. Things… well, things change. And besides that…" Layla hesitated to say, then she whispered, "Malfoy asked me to marry him last night. He claims it's the only way to keep me from having to take the mark too. He says You-Know-Who is getting too curious about me to avoid that situation anymore."

Regulus nodded. "He is. He asked me about you before I took the mark." Layla froze. "I think it was meant to be a test of my loyalty to him. I couldn't tell him anything worth anything, obviously. I don't know any of that. I don't know why he even was asking about you, but he was relentless until he was sure I really didn't know anything beyond you being a brilliant witch with decent dueling skills."

"Oh, what high praise," Layla drawled.

Regulus shrugged. "The point is that I think you should take Malfoy's offer. You'll be much safer as a Malfoy."

"I'm seventeen," Layla said. "It'd be incredibly stupid to get married at seventeen. And how old is Malfoy anyway?"

Regulus thought for a moment. "Twenty-three, I think."

"Exactly. We're way too young, and he's a lot older than me."

"So?"

"So, people don't get married at our age anymore, and certainly not when they're not in love."

"So, fall in love with him," Regulus advised with a smirk as he turned away from his own now empty plate in favor of attacking Layla's French toast.

Layla shook her head. "How exactly am I supposed to force that?"

Regulus shrugged. "I'm sixteen, and I've never had a girlfriend. How the hell should I know?" Layla couldn't help a small laugh at that. "Seriously though, I don't know anything about marrying for love, except that everyone in my family who did ended up married to blood traitors and… Muggle-borns," he said, choosing his words carefully. "They all ended up disowned, blasted off the family tree. But everyone else went with arranged marriages, and they're all fairly happy with their spouses. It's always somehow turned out a good match. Especially Bellatrix and Rodolphus; they're bloody perfect for each other." Layla nodded slowly, frowning. "Just don't dismiss the idea because you're not in love with him. You can always marry him and fall in love later. You don't know him well enough to fall for him yet anyway. You never know." Layla sighed, dissatisfied with Regulus's perfectly reasonable answer precisely because it was so reasonable. Deciding she'd have to continue thinking it over, she grabbed Regulus's fork away from him, stealing the bite of her French toast he'd taken from her plate. She smirked at the pout on the sixth year's face, more satisfied with their usual games.

* * *

 **November 26, 1977**

"Potter passes the Quaffle to Black. Black dodges around Moss; he may have the goal. Black takes the shot – oh! And he's shut down by Danes! Danes now in possession of the Quaffle, she passes it out to Jones. Jones makes a run for the other end of the pitch, whoa! Jones barely misses a blow to the head from Carter's bludger, and she passes the Quaffle to Moss. Moss tosses the Quaffle wildly at the goals, and – wow! He makes the shot! That's another ten points to Ravenclaw, leaving the score 70 Ravenclaw to 20 Gryffindor."

"Oh! Here we go! Lovegood may have spotted the snitch. But let's be real here, is Lovegood really a reliable seeker with all the little creatures he's constantly spotting that are invisible to the rest of us? Black and Potter passing the Quaffle back and forth between them, deftly dodging the best efforts of Ravenclaw's chasers to steal and entirely ignoring open Gryffindor chaser Bonnie Goodwin. Black and Potter slip past Moss, and oops! They've both entered the scoring area; Potter takes the shot. Danes moves to block – ouch! And she's knocked sideways by Black! Come on, Black; you're not playing for Slytherin! Madam Hooch is calling fouls against Danes. Ravenclaw to receive two penalty shots for Gryffindor's stooging and Black's blatching. Gryffindor to receive no points for Potter's last shot, leaving it 70 to 20."

"Now 80 to 20 following Ravenclaw's penalty shots, Gryffindor once again in possession of the Quaffle. Looks like Lovegood might be after the snitch, for real this time, as Gryffindor seeker Stirling is following close behind him. Potter manages to enter the scoring area alone this time, well done, boys. He takes the shot; Danes goes for the block. Merlin! And a well-timed bludger from one Gryffindor beater Marlene McKinnon hits Danes in the arm. Looks like a broken arm from here; don't worry, Danes, Madam Pomfrey will have that set to rights in a matter of seconds, but not till the game's over!"

"Lucky for Danes, Lovegood has caught the Golden Snitch! Can't believe he pulled that off! Ravenclaw wins, 230 to 30, a margin of 200 points. Well done, Ravenclaw!"

* * *

By the time Layla's feet touched solid ground again, Malfoy was already at the edge of the pitch with Madam Pomfrey. How, she didn't know, and she honestly didn't care as she held back tears. The fifth year Hufflepuff who had been commentating the game had been slightly off — it wasn't Layla's arm that was broken, it was her left wrist and hand. Malfoy and the Madam Pomfrey rushed over to her as the rest of her Quidditch team began to land around her, all fretting over her arm. Layla let out a whimper of pain as Madam Pomfrey took hold of the wrist she had been clutching to her chest since the bludger's initial impact. However, a wave of the mediwitch's wand later, Layla was healed, whole, and pain-free. Malfoy pulled Layla in for a hug then, and Layla willingly indulged him, allowing the moment of affection. "Beautiful game, dearest," Malfoy said in her ear, though she barely heard him over the clamor of the crowd forming around them.

"Thanks," Layla replied easily, giving him a genuine smile as he pulled back.

Regulus appeared next to her from – well, Layla hadn't a clue where he'd come from. "Are you ok?" he demanded, and Layla nodded, showing him her wrist where the bludger had hit her for his own reassurance. He nodded, satisfied, then said, "Sirius and Potter are complete gits. Playing dirty like that."

Layla shrugged. "Well, playing nice wasn't getting them anywhere," she laughed. "Playing dirty is their natural reaction I'm sure when they don't get their way easy enough."

Malfoy laughed aloud at that, the most relaxed Layla could remember ever seeing him. Regulus teased, "Well, don't get too cocky, missy. Don't forget; you haven't faced Slytherin yet. And Lovegood doesn't stand a bloody chance against me."

Glancing over her shoulder at Xenophilius Lovegood, the sweet, well-meaning, but a bit batty, seventh year Ravenclaw seeker, Layla stifled a laugh and admitted, "Yeah, you're probably right about that, truth be told."

* * *

 **December 18, 1977**

Layla was hanging on Regulus's arm in the Entrance Hall as they headed down to the train station to head back to King's Cross for Christmas break when the tall, imposing woman blocked their path. "Layla Danes?" she said, though Layla thought she sounded perfectly confident that she'd found the right girl. Layla nodded, denial seeming useless. "I need you to come with me, Miss Danes," the brunette said, leaving no room for questions.

Naturally, Layla felt the need to question this stranger anyway. "Depends on where you're going," Layla said, her confidence boosted by Regulus at her side.

"It's nothing important," the woman said. "My name is Emmeline Vance. Professor Dumbledore asked me to bring you to his office before the Hogwarts Express departs for London today."

Regulus argued, "But the train is leaving in half an hour. She won't make it in time if she detours all the way to Dumbledore's office."

"Professor Dumbledore will ensure that Miss Danes arrives in time to depart on the train," Vance reassured him. "But please, Miss Danes, it's not a request. I need you to come with me now."

And with that, Layla was swept away from Regulus up to Dumbledore's office, where she was a bit surprised to find herself surrounded by several older witches and wizards, including one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who sat behind his desk with a cup of tea and a sparkle in his eye that screamed "mischief" to Layla. "Thank you for joining us today, Miss Danes," Dumbledore said cheerily.

"Why am I here?" Layla asked suspiciously as she sat in the chair in front of the headmaster's desk. After all, Dumbledore had been essentially ignoring her existence the whole term, so what had changed that he would pay attention to her now?

Dumbledore answered, "I thought it was time you were introduced to a few members of the Order of the Phoenix."

"No offense, sir," Layla said. "But maybe the right time to introduce me to Order members would have been when I first came to you at the start of term. Right now, I'm supposed to be on a train going home for Christmas."

"That is precisely why this is the appropriate moment," Dumbledore said with a slight grin. He took a sip of his tea. "You have no home to go to for Christmas, after all, so there's no worry about you missing the train."

Layla argued, "Actually, sir, I do have plans for the holidays."

"Oh, I'm sure your friends will forgive your absence," Dumbledore said, waving his hand dismissively. "But I'm afraid this takes precedence. The Order needs your help, Miss Danes."

It dawned on Layla exactly what was really happening at that moment. With Malfoy showing up to her Quidditch game three weeks ago and Dumbledore's Order members hiding everywhere, surely Dumbledore had noticed Layla's developing attachment to Lucius Malfoy, and even more so to Regulus Black. And she already knew that quite a few people had spotted her "partying" with the LeStrange and Black families at Halloween. She was aware that she was starting to develop a rather dark reputation – a reputation she naturally didn't care for or believe entirely accurate, but a reputation none the less. Layla folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in her seat as she said, "Oh, well that's a shame, since I don't know anything that will help the Order in any way, as we already established during our first meeting in September."

Dumbledore grew more serious. "We believe you might, Miss Danes. Furthermore, your current social ties raise questions about your personal safety."

"Rest assured, Professor," Layla said firmly. "There is no reason for you to be concerned about my safety."

"I believe I will decide that for myself," Dumbledore said, dismissing Layla's words yet again, irritating her. "Are you aware that there is a rumor circling the school that you and one Mr. Lucius Malfoy are dating, possibly engaged?"

Layla narrowed her eyes. "I'm aware such a rumor exists."

"Are you also aware, Miss Danes, that Mr. Malfoy is also a suspected Death Eater?" a redheaded man standing behind Professor Dumbledore asked her, a little more hot-tempered. He looked a lot like the Weasley twins to Layla, so she guessed he was probably related to the Weasleys.

Tilting her head, Layla replied coldly, "Half the population of the wizarding world suspects the other half of being Death Eaters, but I believe you need proof to make such accusations stick."

The man shook his head as Dumbledore addressed her again. "It was my understanding at the start of term that you desired to join the Order of the Phoenix at the nearest opportunity. This is your chance to do so, Miss Danes."

Layla hesitated. Ever since her fifth year, all she'd wanted to do was join the Order and fight back. Fight for what was right, fight for her family, for her safety, for her freedom. She was a muggleborn, after all, and would face nothing but Azkaban or death under Voldemort's regime. But that had all changed when she'd been thrust twenty years into the past. Layla Emerson no longer existed; she was no longer a muggleborn facing the threat of execution. The scars spelling "mudblood" on her left arm would forever remind her of her past, but it was no longer who she was, either. She was a halfblood with a chance at freedom, with a chance to make a choice. Yes, Voldemort and his Death Eaters were still monsters, and she could never become a Death Eater. But the Order of the Phoenix was no longer something she wanted to join. The desire to fight a war no longer made her blood boil; it only made her tremble with fear.

Shaking her head, Layla answered, "Thank you, but no. I've had more time to think since then, and I want no part of this war, on either side. When graduation comes, I'm going to find a nice quiet safe place to settle down and live out my life."

She may have been mistaken, but she thought she saw a brief look of frustration cross Dumbledore's face. "Please reconsider, Miss Danes," Dumbledore asked. "The Order needs your help. Your specific knowledge of the future needs to be utilized in the fight for the greater good."

Layla scoffed. "The greater good? I dedicated my life far too young to fighting for your 'greater good' for over two years, Professor Dumbledore. I'm no longer willing to put my life on the line in order to save total strangers when I already know that nothing I can do will change a thing. I'm of no more use to you than any other seventh year student."

"You know who lives and who dies," Emmeline Vance argued. "You know all about the key battles and strategies of this war. You could warn us when he's going to hit us and where. You could save hundreds of lives."

"I can save no one," Layla snapped. "I never knew much about any of that. I don't know hardly anything about this war you are fighting now, and nothing I know will help you or them."

Silence filled the room as Dumbledore evaluated Layla. Layla tapped her fingers on her arm nervously, anxious to leave and head home. It was almost impossible to believe, but Malfoy had been right. Layla wanted nothing more right now than to return to the relative safety of Malfoy Manor and its owner. Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid I'll have to be the judge of that."

Layla bristled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Dumbledore said tiredly. "That you will be staying here, at the school, over the course of the holidays, with the Order of the Phoenix, where I can conduct experiments to test your knowledge of Voldemort and his forces. Between interviews, of course, you will be free to wander the castle escorted by two Order members."

Unable to believe her ears, Layla accused, "By interviews, of course, you mean interrogations. You're going to force the information you want from me."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Judging from what we discussed at the start of term about your conversations with Lucius Malfoy, it should not take any more than asking a few questions."

"And when you're wrong about that, because, you are," Layla said angrily. "You'll what, Dumbledore? Torture me? Slip me more Veritaserum? Put me under the Imperius Curse?"

"No," Dumbledore said calmly. "I believe Legilimency would better serve our purposes."

A short, humorless laugh escaped her. "You'll get nothing from me," Layla said determinedly.

"We will see," Dumbledore said as he stood. "Miss Vance, if you would and Mr. Prewett would be so kind as to be the first to look after Miss Danes."

* * *

 **December 24, 1977**

Drenched in sweat, Layla slumped in a chair in Dumbledore's office, having successfully resisted the headmaster's attempts at jailbreaking her memories once again. The professor sighed as he seated himself in his chair behind his desk. Layla didn't have to look behind her to know that Edgar Bones and Alice Longbottom were still guarding the office door behind her. For what felt like the millionth time, Dumbledore implored, "Please, Miss Danes. We've been at this for a week now. This would be much simpler if you would cooperate."

Exhausted, Layla said, "I have no reason to cooperate, Professor Dumbledore. I have no information to give you, and certainly, no reason to share my personal memories with you."

Dumbledore said, "Can't you see? You may know something without even truly knowing what you know. If I could only examine your mind, I may be able to determine if there's something of legitimate use to the Order hiding in your past. You must help us, for the greater good of all."

Layla scoffed, "Is that how you justify abduction and invasion of privacy, Professor? The greater good? How many times has that logic backfired on you? Maybe it's you who needs a reminder on the truth about doing what's right."

Alice demanded from the doorway, "Layla, it's a matter of life and death for most of us. I became both an auror and an Order member to be able to preserve justice for kids like you. At least help us bring down Malfoy and his friends as Death Eaters. We know you know whether or not Malfoy is a Death Eater; we know you've seen the evidence. We believe you may even hold evidence of Death Eaters as students inside this very school. Help us arrest them and keep this school safe for all the halfblood and muggleborn students who live here."

Layla shook her head angrily. Despite having no love of Death Eaters, she did care a great deal about Malfoy and Regulus. "Never," Layla said firmly. "I'll never talk, about anything."

Dumbledore sighed and waved his hand, apparently to cut off whatever Alice had planned to say next. "Very well," he said, cool and collected. "Mrs. Longbottom, Mr. Bones, let us step into the corridor for a moment to discuss new tactics. Perhaps it is time for more drastic steps."

As Dumbledore walked past her and the office door opened, Layla sneered, "Oh, take your time. I'll just be here, held hostage and under duress. Nothing wrong with torturing teenagers for information, right? I mean, hey, at least there's been no Unforgivable Curses yet! No knives, no torture devices. Hell, maybe you should give Bellatrix a few lessons in interrogation since you're so much more successful at it!"

The door shut behind her without a response to her mocking, and Layla breathed out a sigh of relief. It was her first moment alone in the week since Dumbledore had forced her to stay behind for Christmas break – well, not entirely alone; Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, still sat on his perch behind the desk, staring at her. She hadn't even been allowed to stay in her dorm in Ravenclaw; apparently, it was too risky to allow the other students staying for the holidays to be aware of her presence. Someone might alert one of Layla's "Death Eater friends." Instead, she'd been held captive in some random tower near the Divinations classroom she'd never explored. It was nicer than one would expect when being held captive. The bedroom and attached restroom had all the same accommodations as the Ravenclaw tower with the exception of a fireplace. Her meals had all been delivered to her new room or Dumbledore's office, depending on where she was at the time. Hogwarts food was amazing as always, but she had to admit, she missed a good, greasy, Muggle delivery pizza.

The thing that surprised her most, however, was that no one from the Order had even thought to take her wand away, which had been the Snatchers' first move. Layla had to assume that the Order must have believed that she was an innocent young girl who knew she was proverbially out-gunned, surrounded by the various aurors and other warriors who made up the Order of the Phoenix, and aware that it would be foolish to attempt to battle her way out to escape. But the Order was wrong. Just because she was smart enough to not try to take them all head-on and fight her way out, didn't mean she wouldn't attempt to escape. And of course, she knew that there was no way Malfoy or Regulus could come back here and save her. She was on her own.

Which meant she only had one method of escape at the moment, and it was giving her flashbacks to her fifth year, when she had been caught by Umbridge trying to help Harry Potter contact his godfather. Oh, her Dumbledore's Army days… If only she'd realized how foolish and idealistic they all were back then. Layla shook her head, shaking off the thoughts. She had made the right choices then, but the circumstances were different now, and she had an opportunity to take advantage of.

Layla stood up and hurried across the room to the large roaring fireplace the moment the office door shut. Luckily, the headmaster kept his Floo Powder in the same spot as he had during her early Hogwarts years, and she scooped a handful. As she tossed the powder into the fire, Fawkes let out a loud, ear-piercing cry, that made Layla stop and cover her ears as the fire exploded into green flames. Nearly instantly, the office door was flung open, and a red jet of light flew at Layla. She blocked the onslaught with a silent Shield Charm, muttered, "Malfoy Manor," under her breath, stepped back into the Floo Network, and was gone in a rush of green flame just before a white mist engulfed the spot where she'd previously stood.

Layla tumbled out of the fireplace into the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor with a loud crash, knocking over a nearby coat rack. Soot choked her, and she struggled to cough it all out of her throat as she heard a clamor from down the corridor. Just as she finally started to breathe normally again, Malfoy had spotted her. "Layla!" He was on her in seconds, helping her up and holding her close to his chest. Even though there was still a part of herself that hated the way she was feeling, it was a relief to be back in Malfoy Manor with Lucius Malfoy. "What the hell happened to you?" Malfoy demanded, squeezing her tightly.

Layla rested her head on his muscular chest as she answered, "Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix decided it was time I did something for 'the greater good,' apparently. AKA, them."

"The Order of the Phoenix has been holding you hostage?" Malfoy snarled bitterly. Layla nodded. "Where?"

"Hogwarts," Layla answered.

"Well, that certainly explains why I couldn't find you," Malfoy said bitterly. "I did try to find you, you know, but every spell and charm I used in an attempt to locate you were blocked. Why did they take you?"

"Ah, Miss Layla Danes," a cold voice came from a few feet away and sent a violent shiver down Layla's spine. She turned her head toward the voice and found herself locking eyes with a red reptilian gaze that unnerved her, and she knew instinctively that she must be looking into the eyes of none other than Lord Voldemort. "That is an excellent question. Why did Dumbledore deem you worth enough to kidnap, and how did you escape?"

Panic gripped her throat, paralyzing her vocal chords as she came face to face with the man who had haunted her worst nightmares since her fifth year at Hogwarts. After her moment of hesitation, she felt Voldemort's eyes piercing her and the sensation of another life force probing her mind, and immediately she threw up her defensive walls, focusing entirely on repeating as many Sir Arthur Conan Doyle quotes as she could remember. It wasn't her best mental shield, but it was effective enough to cut off Voldemort's attack. The older wizard smiled, and if it weren't for the eyes, one could almost believe him your typical kindly middle-aged wizard. "I see. An Occlumens. Certainly, a valuable talent, though you could use more training. Not strong enough to truly keep me out if I wished to force my way in, but enough to perhaps keep the likes of Albus Dumbledore out, correct?"

Layla nodded slowly. Malfoy brought her attention back to him, fully aware of how much Layla feared and hated Voldemort. "What happened?" Malfoy asked, his hand on her cheek and pulling her gaze back to his.

Layla let out a breath she hadn't realized been holding, then answered quietly, "They wanted to turn me against you, Lucius. They were convinced that they could break me, convince me to give them evidence that you were a Death Eater that they could use to have you arrested by the aurors. They even tried to make me tell them the names of any Death Eaters who were still students at Hogwarts and rid the castle of them for good, but I refused."

"Why?"

Malfoy glanced at Voldemort, confused. "My Lord?"

"Why refuse to aid the Order of the Phoenix?" Voldemort asked again. "After all, there was no threat of violence, was there? No one you loved who would be put in danger should you help them? No blackmail? No impending torture should you prove uncooperative? So then, what was your motivation to refuse Dumbledore's seemingly reasonable request?"

More prepared this time, Layla managed to speak directly to Voldemort. "Because it would have put the only people I care about in danger to give that information."

"And who might that be?"

Layla chose that moment to give a full and honest answer. "Lucius Malfoy and Regulus Black, of course." After a moment's hesitation, she added, "They were attempting to retrieve the information they wanted through Legilimency, but I managed to thwart all attempts thankfully. They made the mistake of leaving me alone in Dumbledore's office for just a moment while deciding what method of extraction to try next when I managed to just give them the slip into the Floo Network."

Voldemort nodded, and Layla felt another painful stab at her mind from the Dark Lord. She steadfastly resisted, focusing with all her might on the lyrics of some Van Halen song she knew by heart. Voldemort laughed lightly. "Very well, then," he declared. "You might be a promising young witch, after all, Miss Danes; I'd even dare to say that you're worthy of marrying Lucius."

The comment about marrying Malfoy caught Layla off guard, but she did her best to brush it off. "Thank you," she said softly, unwilling to risk offending one of the darkest wizards to ever live.

Malfoy gave her waist a reassuring squeeze just as Voldemort said to him, "Lucius, I believe our business is concluded for the day. Attend to your witch, and I will let you know when I need you again."

Malfoy inclined his head. "Of course. Thank you, my lord."

Voldemort gave a brief nod before he brushed past the other two and left out the front door. Layla let out a huge sigh of relief at his departure. She threw her arms around Malfoy's neck and hugged him as tight as she could. "I'm so sorry," she mumbled as guilt and exhaustion started to take control.

Malfoy asked, puzzled, "Whatever do you mean?"

"I was wrong about you. For like, a really long time," Layla admitted. "Yeah, ok, to be fair, the adult version of you that I grew up knowing was a complete and total asshole and deserved every bit of hate, but you aren't him. And the way you've clearly had to fight for me and protect me at every freaking turn, just… Thank you. I think I have a little better idea of what you must've been going through all this time now."

"What are you talking about?" Malfoy said, pulling back from her hug and holding her at arm's length to get a better look at her.

Layla glanced around. "It is safe to talk openly now, right?" Malfoy nodded. "I lied to Voldemort. It wasn't just about keeping you and Regulus safe. Dumbledore and the Order know about my time-travel secret."

Malfoy sighed. "The Veritaserum incident LeStrange informed me of, with Black at the start of term."

Layla nodded. "I should've told you. It wasn't just with Black. It was Potter, Lupin, and Pettigrew too, but most importantly, it was Dumbledore. Dumbledore gave me the Veritaserum and questioned me, to prove that my story about time travel was true."

Malfoy closed his eyes for a moment to contain his frustration. When he opened them, he only asked, "Why?"

Shamefaced, Layla answered, "I was absolutely bloody terrified of you then. And I can't blame myself, seeing as two seconds before you and I met, an older version of you was supervising Bellatrix LeStrange in torturing me for information on Dumbledore's Army. All of those people were friends of my friends, Order members, in my time, and I stupidly thought I was better off trusting them than you. Obviously, that was a big mistake."

"Obviously," Malfoy agreed as he ushered her into the sitting room. "But it's too late to do anything about it now."

"Voldemort is bound to find out the truth about me if the entire Order knows," Layla worried. "I know he's got spies within the Order."

Malfoy thought about that for a moment. "If he does, it's news to me," Malfoy said honestly. "But it's possible. I'm certain if he doesn't, it's a goal he's hoping to accomplish as soon as possible."

"What do we do if he finds out?"

Malfoy sat her down on the sofa next to him, pulling her close to him again. "No matter what happens, I will protect you, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he said gently. "For now, I'm just relieved to have you home safe."

A warm fire crackled in the fireplace in front of them. After a beat, Layla whispered, "Me too." She snuggled closer to Malfoy, surprised with how much safer and more respected she felt here with him than she had with any of the Order members she'd met. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Layla said, "Umm, Malfoy?"

"Hmm?"

"I've been thinking about what you said. About how I'd be safest if I married you," Layla said softly. "And I don't know what this is with us. I mean, we're friends now, I think, but I don't know if we could ever be anything more. But I also think you have a good point, that the safest thing for me would be to marry a Death Eater."

"What are you implying, dearest?" Malfoy pressed, sitting up more.

Layla sat up and disentangled herself from his grasp. "I'm saying that maybe you're right. Maybe I don't have to be in love with someone to marry them to secure a safe, loving home for myself. But…" She paused and took a breath. "Doing that is a definite risk. And to be honest, I just don't know if I can take that risk with you. You've been so kind and caring and, well, just so different than I could've ever expected, but I just… I don't know if I could ever manage to fully shake off the past, or, well, the future, whatever. I just worry that I'd always be at least a little afraid that one day I'll wake up and you'll have turned into him."

"That would never happen," Malfoy insisted, taking her hand in his. "I don't know what could have happened to me to turn me into the monster of a man that you knew, but now that you're here, I don't believe that anything could ever change me so drastically."

Layla sighed. "Yes, but even if that never happens, I don't want to live in a constant state of anxiety."

"It's a calculated risk, Layla," Malfoy said firmly. "But it's worth it to ensure your own personal safety and comfort for the rest of your life."

"Exactly!" Layla said. "It's the rest of my life. It's not as though if I marry you and it doesn't work out, I can just walk away, not when it would put my life in jeopardy. If I'm going to have to take that calculated risk, I'd rather take it with…" she trailed off, unsure if she really ought to say what she'd been about to say.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, no, please, dearest, tell me. Who would you rather trust over me to take such a permanent risk with?"

Layla swallowed, then admitted, "Regulus. I'd rather take the chance on Regulus." Surprise, then hurt, crossed Malfoy's face, and Layla felt a little guilty for hurting his feelings. "I'm sorry; it's just… Well, I know him. And I don't have a past with him that conflicts with the reality of now like I do you. We're already such good friends and get along so well, and I trust him. I mean, I don't know if he'd really have any interest in the idea… But I can see myself being comfortable spending my life hanging out with him, even if we never actually fell in love or anything…"

Malfoy laughed darkly. "You're fooling yourself if you think you could secure a marriage to Regulus Black," Malfoy said. "His family would never allow it. Perhaps I've misled you about exactly how much room you have to operate independently within the Death Eaters. Let me make it clearer for you, my dearest: you're a halfblood. Better than a mudblood, yes, but still not good enough to be a pureblood, and certainly not one of the purest houses of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Regulus Black is too good for you, and his family will not hesitate to inform you of that fact."

"You're a pureblood, too," Layla argued, pulling her hand free of Malfoy's. "What, I'm good enough for you but not for him?"

"Precisely!" Layla huffed as Malfoy leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "He's a Black, for Merlin's sake. Don't forget, his cousin Narcissa already drugged you and set you up to be raped to punish you for a perceived slight. Bellatrix is his cousin as well, and you still bear the marks of what she did to you. And I promise you, Bellatrix is as cruel and vicious as ever, if a little less mad than when you knew her. Regulus's mother is worse than any of them, and she will not hesitate to kill a halfblood like you before ever allowing him to tarnish her bloodline with you. Whether you plan to ever have children with him or not is irrelevant. On the other hand, the Malfoy family is not as heavily invested in pureblood ideology, which means that we can get away with tossing the occasional halfblood or mudblood into the family tree as long as it makes the tree grow stronger."

"Oh, that's bloody absurd," Layla snapped in frustration.

"It might very well be bloody absurd," Malfoy bit back. "But it's the facts of the situation."

Rolling her eyes, Layla said, "Whatever. I'm going to my room. I need a shower."

Sighing, Malfoy slumped back onto the couch. "Very well then. Go."

Storming off, Layla got lost about halfway to her bedroom and had to call Dobby the house elf to guide her back to the bedroom she hadn't seen since the start of the school year. When she made it there, she immediately turned to the fireplace and the small bowl of Floo Powder on the mantle. As Dobby left, she flicked a small amount of the powder into the already roaring fire and called Regulus's name. A few short minutes later, Regulus stepped out of her fireplace. "Layla!" he exclaimed, stepping up and hugging her tightly. "Oh, thank Merlin, you're safe. I was so worried about you!"

Layla threw her arms around his neck and hugged him back as hard as she could. "I'm so sorry, Regulus," she said, breathing her own sigh of relief.

"What happened? Are you ok?" Regulus demanded, letting her go and moving to sit on the foot of her bed. Layla sat down next to him as she explained the ambush that had awaited her in Dumbledore's office and the way things had only escalated from there. "So, wait," Regulus said. "Why is Dumbledore so interested in you? I mean, there's plenty of students who are friends with Slytherins who are suspected to be Death Eaters. Why would he focus so intensely on you?"

Layla hesitated to answer. She wanted to tell Regulus the truth about her past, but she knew that could only further complicate both of their lives. So, she lied, "I'm really not sure. I guess maybe it's that I've been kind of noticeably emotionally fragile. I think he thought I might be easy to break. Plus, I'd shown interest in being part of the Order of the Phoenix in the past, so he thought it might be easy to make me his spy or something? I don't know. But whatever it was, he was wrong. I didn't give them anything, no matter what they did to me to try to break me."

"But why?" Regulus asked. "I mean, I thought the Order was what you wanted. And you can't stand Death Eaters; I know that for sure. Why not just turn Lucius and the rest of the lot in as Death Eaters?"

"Because," Layla said impatiently. "That would have meant turning you in, too, stupid. And I wasn't going to betray you like that. You mean too much to me."

Regulus shook his head. "But if you'd rather be part of the Order, then maybe you should have –"

"I wouldn't rather be part of the Order, though. I'd rather not be on anyone's side and just leave this whole stupid bloody war behind," Layla admitted. "But that's looking less and less like a realistic daydream every day." Sighing, Layla leaned against Regulus's shoulder. "Honestly, at this point, I just want to feel safe. I don't want to keep having to look over my shoulder every damn day."

Putting his arm around her shoulders, Regulus said, "Well, Malfoy can give you that, easy. If you accept his marriage proposal, anyway. Money, status, respect among the Dark Lord's followers, safety, a good home. He can give you everything a girl can dream of."

Layla scoffed, "Yeah, good old Malfoy. Always there with a pretty word and plenty of gold, always leaving you to wonder at exactly what precise moment he'll snap and take his anger out on you."

Brows furrowing, Regulus asked, "He's not hurt you, has he?"

Layla shook her head. "No, no, of course not," she said quietly. "I just… I don't know. It's not that I think he'd ever hurt me, it's just… ugh, I don't know. It's like you said, he cares more about collecting power for the Malfoy name than about me. Not to say that he doesn't care about me or isn't good to me, but…" Layla met Regulus's gaze. "Damn it, I don't want to marry him, Regulus. It just doesn't feel like the right choice."

Regulus paused, and Layla could see the gears trying to turn in two different directions in his head. Finally, he said, "But what if it's the only choice, Layla? What if there are no other options?"

Layla hesitated half a second before placing her hand on Regulus's knee. "But what if there are?" she asked quietly, her eyes dropping to the Persian rug on the floor. "I mean, we've talked about this before, that I don't love Malfoy."

"Yeah, and I said that you should try to learn to love him," Regulus said, his voice thick with emotion.

"But I don't want to," Layla said quietly. "I'd rather… I'd rather try to learn to love someone else…" She chanced a glance up at Regulus's face then. He seemed frozen in place, and she thought she saw just a hint of tears in his eyes. Growing a little braver, she continued, "If I have to take the chance on marrying a Death Eater to preserve my own safety, I'd rather take that chance with you."

Regulus shook his head, confused. "But… you said that you didn't see me like that. You said I was like a brother to you."

Increasingly nervous, Layla wrapped her arms around her own chest tightly. "Yeah, well… I was kind of lying when I said that I couldn't see us as a couple. I just, I didn't know for sure what I wanted, and I just… I thought I'd rather disappoint you than lead you on."

"And now?"

"Now…" Regulus stared at his hands in his lap as she answered, "Honestly, I still don't entirely know what I want in life. But I know that if I'm going to pick someone to spend the rest of my life next to, I'd rather it be my best friend than someone I barely know."

Regulus thought about it for a moment, then sighed sadly. "Yeah, me too," he admitted, his voice so low Layla almost missed it. Then he looked up at her and said a little louder, "But we can't. It's too dangerous for you to be with me. My mother… she'd never approve."

"That's what Malfoy said, too, when I told him."

Regulus's eyes widened. "You told Malfoy you'd rather be with me?" Layla nodded. Regulus groaned, planting his elbows on his thighs so he could cradle his head in his hands. "I wish you hadn't done that." After a moment's thought, he looked up and added, "Don't get me wrong. I love that you were willing to say that and tell Malfoy to shove off, it's just… Well, he's probably right. He's a safer choice than me. My family would not react well to the idea of me being with a halfblood, not to mention I have another year of school to do after you graduate, and I wouldn't be able to keep you safe for a whole other year. It's just not practical."

"I'd take emotionally practical over materially practical," Layla said.

"Yeah, but I don't have that option," Regulus said, snapping at her a little more than he'd likely intended. "Maybe if Sirius had been the proper pureblood older brother he was expected to be, but he wasn't, and here we are. Now, I'm the one carrying all the family responsibilities, and Mother would never allow a halfblood to stain her precious family name."

Layla sighed as Regulus laid back on the bed tiredly. "Well, what do we do, then?" she asked, turning to look down at him.

Regulus shook his head. "I don't know."


	7. Chapter 7: Dreaming

_We've got nowhere to run; they've all got loaded guns. Oh, no, please, god, tell me we're dreaming. – Dreaming, Smallpools_

* * *

 **December 25, 1977**

An annoying poke at her nose woke Layla; she pulled the covers over her head, groaning, unwilling to be awake just yet. A loud snapping sound pulled her even further awake, and then her blankets disappeared, leaving her exposed to the cold air. "Sorry, Miss Layla," Dobby said, far too chipper for Layla's taste. "But you don't want to miss Christmas morning! Master Lucius has instructed Dobby to prepare quite the Christmas breakfast, and Master Lucius rarely makes a fuss over holidays. Miss Layla must get out of bed right. Master Lucius wishes to have Miss Layla open her presents right away."

Sighing heavily, Layla sat up, rubbing her tired eyes. She had stayed up into the early hours of the morning with Regulus, arguing and talking about the various ways their lives could go right or wrong if they pursued any sort of deeper relationship. Eventually, they got sick of each other and agreed that any attempts at dating would end in nothing short of a disaster, and Layla kicked Regulus out of her room, both of them angry and fighting back tears.

As Layla reached the bottom of the stairs to the sitting room, Malfoy called over to her from his seat on the sofa, "There you are! I was beginning to think that you might sleep all day." Layla was surprised to find that the sitting room, which had been completely devoid of decorations the night before, was now bursting at the seams with Christmas spirit. A beautiful Christmas tree stood in the corner of the room near the fireplace, twinkle lights hung all over the walls and ceilings, and holly adorned the mantlepiece. One of the boxes under the Christmas tree, wrapped in shiny red paper and gold ribbon that sparkled under the twinkle lights, would occasionally shake and emit small squeaks. Malfoy stood up as Layla sat down, picked up the box, and handed it to her, saying, "You might want to open this one before it gets too fussy."

Brows furrowed in confusion, Layla did as instructed, tugging the golden ribbon free of the box. She removed the box's lid and gasped when a tiny fuzzy head immediately popped out of the box and squeaked happily. The sweet little Siamese kitten scrambled to try to get over the edge of the box but couldn't quite get its footing, so Layla gently picked it up around the waist and lifted it free of the box. She held the small animal close to her chest, and Malfoy said softly from where he still stood next to the tree, "You seemed a little lonely at school, so I thought a kitten would suit you better than an owl." Layla struggled to find words, so Malfoy added, "She looks like she's a purebred Siamese, but she's actually only half. Her father was just a typical tabby cat. I thought maybe you'd be able to bond with her easily over that."

Tears pricked the corners of Layla's eyes, much to her annoyance. The kitten crawled her way up onto Layla's shoulder, purring loudly as she did. Layla nodded slightly. "Thank you," she said quietly, forcing her voice to be steadier than she felt.

* * *

 **December 30, 1977**

A few days later, Malfoy and Layla found themselves on the couch once again, spending a lazy afternoon at home. Malfoy was deeply interested in a book written in what Layla suspected to be Russian, on what subject, she couldn't guess. Malfoy had surprised Layla by not bringing up the subject of the marriage proposal again, and she hadn't spoken to Regulus since the night they'd fought over it either, leaving Layla not entirely sure where she stood with either of them. Choosing not to breach the subject again herself, Layla played with her new kitten, who Layla chose to name Delilah, and studied for her upcoming N.E.W.T. exams until she was so bored, she couldn't take it anymore. "Malfoy?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm bored."

Malfoy sighed, closing his book. "What would you like for me to do about it, dearest?"

Layla hesitated, then said, "Well, I grew up spending my Christmases in the Muggle world, and well, I just… I was wondering if we could maybe watch some Christmas movies and eat pizza?"

Malfoy frowned, looking more confused than upset. "Layla, I don't know…"

"Please?" She begged, giving him her best sad puppy eyes.

* * *

Late that night, Layla and Malfoy stumbled laughing into the manor's entrance hall. Malfoy handed the box of their leftover pizza to Dobby, who disappeared to the kitchen with a loud crack. The pair had gone to a local theater that was still showing a Christmas movie marathon: _Holiday Inn, Miracle on 34_ _th_ _Street, It Happened on Fifth Avenue,_ and _White Christmas_. They'd eaten popcorn and candy and pizza all through the shows, and Layla had been surprised that Malfoy seemed to be having a genuinely good time. Even more surprising, he'd been willing to wear Muggle clothes for the occasion, which he pulled off quite well. He took her coat for her and hung it up before ushering her down the hall. Layla turned to him just as they reached the sitting room and said, "Malfoy, I had –"

"What is the meaning of this?" A voice rumbled, deep, from behind Layla.

Layla spun around, her hand on her wand in her pocket, but Malfoy moved faster than her, grabbing her wand arm, preventing her from drawing her wand, and pushing her behind him protectively. "Father," Malfoy said coldly.

Finally catching sight of the source of the voice, Layla saw a tall, white-haired man standing in front of the fireplace in the sitting room. His eyes were a sharp, cold blue that matched his steely gaze. The man, apparently Lucius Malfoy's father, said angrily, "I'm gone, unreachable deep in the jungles of Africa, hunting the dangerous magical creatures there, for only eight short months, and upon my return to the mainland, I find that my only son has broken his engagement contract to the lovely Narcissa Black, taken in some halfblood stray under the guise of some family friend that I have never heard of before, and is rumored to be engaged to aforementioned stray. And now, I come home to find that he is coming home at all hours of the night in _Muggle_ clothes with his new little halfblood harlot?"

"Father," Lucius started again, but his father would hear none of it.

"I demand an immediate explanation."

Lucius took a deep breath, waiting to see if his father was truly finished with his speech. When his father waited impatiently, Lucius said politely, "Father, this is Layla Danes. Layla, this is my father, Abraxas Malfoy."

"I think we're past the need for introductions, son," Abraxas snapped. "I want to know who the hell she really is and what deems her worthy of being engaged to _my_ son, seeing as I know for a fact that no one in our family has ever been associated with some halfblood family in America named Danes."

Eyes filling with panic, Layla looked up at Lucius, letting him take her hand and tangle his fingers with hers. Lucius seemed to think for just a minute, then he said, "For her own safety, I won't reveal more details than absolutely necessary, but Layla's a very powerful witch, Father. Even the Dark Lord believes she's a better match for this family than Narcissa Black."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Abraxas demanded.

"It means," Lucius snapped back. "That I am protecting Layla from those who would want to take advantage of her and misuse her abilities. In the process, she can add further power to future generations of Malfoys, which I know is your ultimate desire."

Abraxas scowled. "I will not have you sullying the name of Malfoy, boy. Adding a powerful halfblood to the family is one thing, but having you traipsing around like a Muggle, costing our family respect in the wizarding community, is another. We're Malfoys, not Weasleys."

Lucius nodded. "Yes, sir."

Still frowning, Abraxas's hard eyes found Layla again. "Come here, child," he ordered. Lucius let go of Layla's hand and stepped out of her way, allowing her to walk forward. She stopped a few steps away from Abraxas Malfoy, who towered over her, well over six feet tall, making her feel tiny in comparison. He looked her up and down briefly. "Well, you're quite pretty, at least," he said, his tone condescending. "Perhaps if we cleaned you up like a proper pureblood, you could pass as a decent match for my son." He cleared his throat. "At tomorrow night's New Year's Eve Gala, we'll officially announce your engagement."

Shock rocked Layla's system as Lucius began to protest, "Father, we haven't –"

"Nonsense," Abraxas said dismissively. "Enough of this fooling around. We'll make the official announcement tomorrow night. End of discussion."

Layla wanted to protest, but before she could say anything, Lucius said, "Very well, then. Good night, Father." Abraxas nodded, and Lucius took Layla by the elbow and led her up to her bedroom. As they entered the room, Lucius said quietly, "Layla, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to force you into a corner like this about getting married; I was just going to let it go, accept that you didn't want to be with me, and just move on. But now that my father is involved…"

"That's no longer an option," Layla finished for him. Lucius nodded. Layla collapsed to sit on the foot of her bed, her head in her hands. "I really don't have a choice anymore, do I?"

Lucius thought for a moment. "Well, that's not entirely true." Layla looked up at him, confused. "You always have a choice, Layla. You do not have to marry me. You don't have to do anything at all. You can leave here, join the Order, try to strike up a doomed romance with Regulus Black, finish your year at Hogwarts, and go on to do whatever the hell you want. No matter what you decide, I'll do my best to protect you and provide for you. I just… I just want you to be happy and safe."

The new kitten, Delilah, jumped up into Layla's lap, purring noisily. Layla scratched between the cat's shoulder blades as she contemplated what Lucius had said. After a few minutes of silence, Layla said quietly, "I'll stay. I just…" She took a deep, shaky breath. "I have issues, you know? And being with me, being stuck with me, forever like that… I just, I hate to stick you with that… You're… you're actually a really nice guy, and I'm really just so messed up, and…"

"Hey, hey," Lucius said, kneeling in front of her and taking her face in his hands. "There is nothing wrong with you. You've been through some very traumatic and difficult things. It's natural to struggle with that. And I know you don't trust me entirely because of your strange past, and that's all right. Whatever the issues, we'll work through it together… If you'll let me help, that is."

Layla shook her head slowly, taking his hands in hers and pulling them away from her face. "Malfoy, I… I just, I don't know. Just let me think about it, ok?"

Lucius nodded. "All right. But please, let me know before my father goes and announces our engagement before we've come to an agreement. I don't want to further piss him off by letting him make a fool of himself." Layla nodded, then Lucius stood up slowly, turned, and left.

* * *

 **December 31, 1977**

The pale pink silk of Layla's ballgown rustled around her legs as she moved, hanging on Lucius Malfoy's arm as they walked into the ballroom of the LeStrange family home. Layla's eyes scanned the room, searching for Regulus, knowing he'd have to be there; his cousin Bellatrix was the hostess, after all. Lucius had, fortunately, agreed to at least let her talk to Regulus before she made any final decisions about marrying Lucius. It only took a minute for Layla to split off from Lucius without his father noticing – not that the man seemed to be paying much attention to anyone outside of Antonin Dolohov and Orion Black.

"Well, hello again, Layla." Sighing at the unwelcome voice, Layla turned around to face Rabastan LeStrange, who was looking surprisingly healthy and handsome in his dress robes. "You're looking well."

"So are you," Layla said coldly. "Too well."

"Yes, well," Rabastan said with a smile. "Two months in St. Mungo's seems to have worked wonders for me. No thanks to your pal, Malfoy."

"You brought that on yourself," Layla snarled.

Rabastan shrugged, taking another step closer to Layla. "Perhaps," he admitted. "But, what can I say? It was family business."

"Oh, is that what you call it?"

Laughing softly, Rabastan took Layla's hand, brought it up to his lips, and brushed a gentle kiss against it. "Yes, that's exactly what I call it," he said. "Narcissa is my sister-in-law, after all. I was doing her a favor, and, if I'm honest, a favor for myself, while I was at it. I mean, look at you." Layla jerked her hand from Rabastan's grasp. "So pretty and so spirited. I wouldn't mind being with a woman like you the rest of my life."

"Too bad you're an ass and won't ever have the chance to find out," Layla snapped.

Rabastan only laughed and shook his head. "Be careful, Layla, dear," he said gently. "You never know when things may change, suddenly and drastically."

"All right, Rabastan," Regulus said as he walked up, wrapping his arm in Layla's. "That's enough of your vile."

Rabastan snorted in amusement. "Whatever you say, cousin," he smirked before walking away.

Regulus turned to Layla. She took his hand as he asked, "Are you ok?"

Layla nodded. "Yes, I'm fine, but we need to talk."

Nodding, Regulus led her away from the crowd of purebloods, outside into the empty rose garden. "Are you sure you're ok?" he asked quietly.

Layla tightened her grip on his hand. "Abraxas Malfoy."

Regulus sucked in a breath. "Oh, boy."

"Oh, yeah," Layla said. "He's planning to announce my apparent engagement to his son Lucius here, tonight, at five to midnight."

Dropping Layla's hand, Regulus took a step back. "I see."

Layla shook her head. "I don't want that, and you know it. But, I just…" She paused for a moment to collect herself, then she continued, "Regulus, we've got to make a decision here. The other night…"

"We can't," Regulus said firmly, cutting Layla off. "As much as we might want to, we just can't. I won't be so selfish as to put your life in danger like that."

Layla bristled at that. "My life's in danger no matter what. My life's _always_ in freaking danger. Would it be so bad if my choice was to fight that danger alongside you?"

Regulus seemed to hesitate, then he muttered, "Yes, it would be. It would put you in even more danger, and I'd be right in the mess with you, and I just…"

"You're just what?" Layla snapped. "A bloody coward?" Regulus flinched slightly at her harsh words. "You want to be with me, but you're too bloody scared of your mother to do it?"

"That's not fair," Regulus argued. "This isn't about me. I'm not afraid for myself here."

"Oh really?" Layla said. "Then what are you so bloody afraid of?"

"Of you getting hurt!" Regulus growled. "I'm bloody terrified that you'll be hurt, or worse, killed, for trying to be with me, and I care too much about you to let that happen, Layla!"

"What about my choice?" Layla hissed, forcing herself not to raise her voice.

"And what about mine?" Regulus said, pulling her closer to him. Touching her face delicately, he stared deep into her eyes, then sighed heavily. "Layla, please, try to understand. I would kill for the chance to be with you, but there are just too many of them for me to take on like that. Even with you fighting alongside me, we're just plain outnumbered. It just can't happen for us, no matter how badly either of us wants it. I will always be your best friend. I will stand by you and keep you safe, no matter what it costs me."

"Regulus, I –"

"Please, Layla," Regulus begged, holding both of her hands close to his heart. "Don't make this any harder than it has to be. It's like you said, no one would believe us as a couple, anyway. We're too much like siblings, right?" Layla nodded reluctantly. "This is the best way I can protect you, Layla. Just… just marry Malfoy. He'll be good to you, and – and you'll be safe. Ok?"

Eyes stinging, Layla nodded again with a quick sniff. "Ok," she whispered back.

Regulus stared at her for a moment, searching for something, then quickly leaned in and brushed his lips against her forehead briefly. "I'll see you inside," he said, then turned and quickly disappeared back inside the castle.

Before rejoining the party, Layla wiped away the tears in her eyes, struggling to pull herself together. She easily found Lucius, seated at a table with several other men, and if she were honest, she had a difficult time telling apart which men were likely Death Eaters and which were simply entrenched bureaucrats at the Ministry of Magic. Slipping into a seat next to Lucius, she whispered in his ear, "Yes."

Lucius jumped slightly, startled by her sudden closeness. He raised an eyebrow at her as she sat. "Yes?"

Layla nodded, sniffing again. She murmured, "What you needed to know in time. The answer is yes."

Understanding lit his eyes, and Lucius nodded with a small smile. "Very well, then."

* * *

At exactly five minutes until midnight, Abraxas Malfoy demanded the attention of the room, which came to him easily enough. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began grandly. "As some of you may know, a dear family friend of mine and his lovely wife recently met an untimely end in the Americas, leaving behind a young daughter. It was an unfortunate and tragic accident, but nonetheless, I will always be grateful that it has allowed their cherished child to be welcomed into our home, Miss Layla Danes. Now, it has come to my attention that while Miss Danes has been away at Hogwarts, she and my son, Lucius, have been exchanging letters multiple times a day, and, slowly but surely, they have fallen deeply, passionately in love with one another." He paused to allow the crowd to get their "oohs" and "ahhs" out of the way. "Yes, yes, it is a spark that is already beginning to turn into quite a flame." Layla couldn't help but roll her eyes at the older man's drastic lies. "So, tonight, as we welcome the new year, I want to announce the engagement of my son, Lucius Malfoy, and the charming Miss Layla Danes, and welcome this darling young woman to our family." Raising his glass to them, Abraxas looked at first Lucius, then Layla. "To the future," he said proudly, which was resounded heartily throughout the room.

Lucius and Layla raised their glasses in return, but Layla only pretended to drink from hers. Her stomach had been twisted into knots ever since her conversation with Regulus. Lucius slipped his hand into hers under the table as the rest of the room started counting down from thirty seconds to midnight. "Everything will be all right," he whispered gently in her ear.

Layla shook her head slightly. "Everything's spinning out of control."

"Then let it," Lucius said. "Lose control for once. It will all be all right, my dearest. I promise."

Layla thought about it as the countdown hit ten. She searched his blue eyes, for what, she wasn't sure – permission, maybe? Permission to lose herself there, in his eyes, in his lies? Looking at all the emotional hell she'd been putting herself through for the last four months as she tried to hold onto her old life, to her old ideas, to parts of herself long since dead, to a past and to people that no longer existed, she finally began to realize that it was all for nothing. There was nothing left to go back to; it was time to embrace the new. And that's what she found as she stared at Lucius Malfoy's face – permission to be someone new.

"Three, two, one!"

As the clock struck midnight, a loud chime filled the air, and Layla leaned forward, took Lucius's face in her hands, and kissed him. If he was surprised by it, he didn't show it. Instead, he kissed her back with passion, nipping at her lower lip in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. He tenderly brushed her dark curls away from her face as he broke off the kiss, a wide smile on his face, and Layla couldn't help a small smile of her own as she looked into the eyes of her newfound freedom.

* * *

 **January 2, 1978**

"Are you sure you want to go back to Hogwarts?" Lucius asked, for what felt to Layla like the hundredth time. "I can always get you transferred for your last semester to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang if you'd like. If you're back at Hogwarts, you won't be safe from Dumbledore and the Order there. They could attack you again."

"They could attack me again most anywhere, really," Layla reminded him gently. "I'd rather stay at Hogwarts. It wouldn't be worth it to make such a big move now."

"It would be worth it to me," Lucius said. "I want to keep you safe."

"I'm safe enough. I've got Regulus with me."

Sighing, Lucius said, "Very well, then." Layla reached up and planted a quick kiss on his lips. He smiled. "Better get on the train, then, before it leaves without you again."

Grinning, Layla stepped onto the train. She moved from one compartment to the next, searching for Regulus. Instead, she found the Marauders. "Well, well, well," Sirius sneered. "Heard someone got engaged over the holidays. So much for all your, 'I want to join the Order after school' bullshit."

Layla rolled her eyes, her hand resting on the open compartment door. "Oh, Sirius," she pouted. "Jealousy doesn't suit you."

Sirius retorted, "Better than being a Death Eater's whore."

Layla put a hand on her wand automatically, then thought better of drawing it. "Safer than having Dumbledore's cock shoved up your ass," she said lightly, then pushed herself away from the wall and continued on down the hall, ignoring Sirius's angry sputtering and James calling after her. A few doors down, she finally found Regulus, sharing a compartment with Severus Snape, Rabastan LeStrange, and Barty Crouch, Jr. She slipped inside and sat down next to Regulus. "Hey," she said quietly. For some strange reason, the other three Slytherins were all reading, so she didn't want to disturb them.

Regulus glanced around the room, then shook his head. "Not here," he muttered, then stood and walked out the door. Layla quickly followed him to an empty compartment. Regulus shut and locked the door behind her, pulling the blinds down for privacy. "Layla, I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Layla frowned, looking at him confused. "Sorry for what?"

"For fighting the other night," Regulus said. "I don't like fighting with you."

"I don't like fighting with you either."

"Then let's not do it anymore," Regulus pleaded. Layla nodded, and he breathed a small sigh of relief. "Are you ok?"

Tilting her head to one side, Layla asked, "What do you mean?"

Regulus shrugged. "I don't know. It was just weird. Seeing you engaged to Malfoy and kissing him and stuff… It was just weird. I just want to make sure that's you're ok with all of that."

Layla nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah, I think so," she said, a little shaky. "I mean, I'm ok. I'm not sure if I'm ok _with_ it, but I'm ok."

Regulus nodded in understanding. "Layla, I just… You know that, if I really thought we stood a chance against the rest of the world, that I would –"

"Let me just stop you right there," Layla said, pushing away the feelings of hurt and longing in her chest. "Just, don't do that, please. Don't. We've already been through all of this, and if we keep giving each other hope like that…" She shook her head. "We can't. It's like you said – we're best friends, and we'll always be best friends, but that's all."

Frowning, Regulus rubbed his nose and said, "Yeah, ok. Yeah, you're right." He exhaled shakily, running a hand through his dark hair. "I just want you to be happy and safe."

Kneading her left arm with her fingers, Layla answered truthfully, "I'm safe. I'll have to learn to be happy, I think, but I'm definitely safe."

Regulus nodded again. "Good, good. Ok, well, um, let's get back to the others, then."

"Ok," Layla mumbled as Regulus brushed past her to unlock the door.

* * *

Layla sat at the Slytherin table with Regulus for dinner, an unusual move for her, but not so strange that anyone really paid it any attention. As they ate their desserts, Layla said, "Snape, I need you to start helping me study for Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Snape choked on a sip of pumpkin juice. "Excuse me?" he demanded.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Layla said calmly. "What part of that was unclear to you?"

Snape glared at her. "Why should I?"

"Because Lucius wants it that way," Layla said firmly. "Especially if you're still so keen on joining his little group of friends after the end of the school year. Plus…" She took a bite of her chocolate cake. "You two are friends, right? So, consider it a favor for a friend, if it makes you feel better about it."

"Very well, then," Snape said grudgingly. Regulus raised an eyebrow at her, but Layla just smiled at him and kept eating her cake.

* * *

 **January 13, 1978**

"Snape, why on earth would I want to learn this spell?" Layla snapped in frustration. "This is most definitely not on the subject."

"Because," Snape snarled. "It is on a list of spells that Lucius sent me, demanding that I teach them to you at once."

"Well, then let me rephrase the question," Layla hissed, standing from her chair, hands planted on the library table as she leaned across it in front of the seated Snape. "Why the _hell_ would I want to learn this spell?"

Snape bit his lip for a moment as though holding back one of his nastier comments, then he said, "Lucius insists that you will need it in your arsenal."

Layla narrowed her eyes at Snape, then pushed off the table. "Fine." She sat back down. "Teach me the spell, and whatever other magic he's demanding."

Immediately, Snape shoved a massive ancient tome at her and said, "Turn to page 394."

* * *

 **January 14, 1978**

"Wake up, Layla."

A hand lightly touched her shoulder, and she woke up with a gasp, yanked her wand from under her pillow, and pointed it in the intruder's face with a silent illumination charm. Her wand shone brightly, momentarily blinding Regulus. Her panic began to subside until she noticed Rabastan LeStrange, Severus Snape, and Evan Rosier standing behind him. "What the bloody hell?"

"Sorry, Layla," Regulus whispered. "Get dressed. You have to come with us."

Something in Regulus's tone wasn't right, and Layla knew there had to be something eating at him. "What's wrong?" she whispered back.

Regulus shook his head. "Get dressed."

Frowning, Layla got out of bed as Rosier and Snape walked back out the door of her dorm room. Rabastan lingered, spying on Dorcas Meadowes, Layla's only roommate, as she slept. "Such a pretty thing," Rabastan mused. "Too bad she's a mudblood."

In an instant, the tip of Layla's wand was wedged hard under Rabastan's chin. "Touch her and die," she snarled.

Rabastan raised an amused eyebrow at her. "Protective of your Muggle pet?" he teased.

"Protective of my ass," Layla hissed, shoving her wand a little harder against his throat. "I'll not have anything happening to my only roommate when I'm the only natural suspect. Fuck off, LeStrange. Now."

Rabastan suppressed a short laugh as best he could. "As you wish," he said lightly, then turned on his heel and strode out the bedroom door, shutting it behind him.

As Layla kneeled and gathered her clothes from her trunk, Regulus said, "I'm sorry about him. And, well, all of this, really."

"Shush," Layla muttered. "We can't wake Dorcas."

"Oh, she won't wake." Layla turned to him with wide blue eyes. Regulus waved his hand in protest and said, "Oh, no, it's nothing like that. We drugged her at dinner with a Sleeping Draught. As long as we're not ridiculously loud, she should sleep just fine."

Calming a little, Layla nodded as she rose to her feet and headed for the bathroom. She heard Regulus lingering just outside the bathroom door, so she asked him as she changed, "What's happening?"

Regulus sighed. "We received orders this morning. We are tasked with sneaking you out of the castle to Hogsmeade. There, one more will join us to help us with the exact location, and we apparate to some small Muggle village."

Brows knit together in confusion, Layla pulled her dress over her head, grateful she'd thought to at least wear a black dress and black tights Lucius had bought her at some wizarding world tailor's shop instead of Muggle clothes. She opened the door then grabbed her Muggle combat boots from the floor by her bed, not caring that they didn't quite match her dress. "I don't understand," Layla said quietly as she sat on her bed to put on the shoes. "This sounds like you're taking me out on some Death Eater mission."

"We are."

Layla paused, then zipped her boot the rest of the way up her calf. "Why the hell would you be doing that?"

Regulus crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry, Layla," he said. "You know I don't want to, but the Dark Lord insists."

"Why?" Layla demanded.

"Think about it," Regulus said. "You're marrying a Death Eater next summer. The Dark Lord has a rather vested interest in the people his Death Eaters are closest to. I imagine he's testing you. Trying to decide if you're a good enough halfblood to be worthy of one of his higher-ranking Death Eaters."

Layla shivered at the thought. "Any idea what we'll be doing once we get there?" Regulus shook his head. "Ok. Let's go."

"You're not going to try to weasel your way out of this or fight back or… something? Anything?" Regulus asked, surprised.

Layla shrugged, tossing a heavy, hooded black cloak around her shoulders. "Why? There's no point. I wouldn't win, and it'd just make me look bad to them." Regulus gave a quick nod of his head at that, then followed her out to rejoin his fellow Death Eaters.

* * *

It took some time, but the group of students managed to sneak out of Hogwarts Castle and into Hogsmeade, where Layla was disappointed to discover that their escort to the Muggle village was none other than Bellatrix LeStrange. "About time, you lot," the older woman sneered.

"Are we ready?" Rabastan asked her.

Bellatrix snorted. "Oh, little brother, we've _been_ ready. Now gather around; I've got a portkey for you babies who aren't big enough yet for apparation."

Layla squeezed herself in between Regulus and Rabastan, taking hold of the previous day's newspaper that Bellatrix offered them. A second later, she felt an awful tug behind her navel, and she was yanked forward, the world spinning around her for a moment. The ground suddenly solidified under her feet again, and she stumbled, bumping against Regulus's side before she could catch her balance. Just as she was deciding whether her stomach was churning from the portkey journey or her anxiety, Lucius entered the alley along with two other masked Death Eaters. Lucius waved his wand across his face as he walked up to her, and a mask materialized on his face. He hugged Layla tightly to his chest, whispering in her ear, "Are you ready, dearest?"

Layla whispered back, "Is this the price of my freedom?" She felt Lucius nod against her hair. "Then I'm ready to pay."

As Lucius pulled away from her, he slipped a hard, cold mask into her hands. It shone silver in the moonlight, lines of a skull's face and roses etched into it. "Wear this at all times," Lucius cautioned. "Do not lose it, for any reason." Layla nodded, fitting the mask to her face. Taking on a life of its own, the mask shrank slightly and reshaped itself until it sat on her face as easily as a second layer of skin.

Glancing to her right as she pulled her cloak's hood up over her face, Layla spotted Regulus still standing next to her, a darker mask attached to his face. He nodded to her reassuringly, and she returned the gesture as Bellatrix barked from behind her mask, "Well, what are we waiting for? We've got chaos to create."

With Bellatrix taking the lead, the group of wizards and witches moved out into the main street. Layla brushed her fingers against the back of Lucius's hand, and his fingers caught hers for a mere moment, then released. "What are we doing?" Layla barely breathed the words loud enough for him to hear in the still, quiet night.

At first, Lucius said nothing, but just as she began to think that he hadn't heard her, he answered in a hushed tone, "Do nothing unless I say so."

Before Layla could respond, Bellatrix had grabbed Regulus by the arm and was waving her wand at the front door of a house, unlocking it. The two slipped inside silently as Snape and Rosier followed another Death Eater into another house. Rabastan followed the third Death Eater, whom Layla suspected might be his older brother, Rodolphus LeStrange, into the house next door to where Regulus had disappeared. Lucius motioned for her to follow him, and she did as instructed. He magically picked the lock on the front door of another house on the same street, and the two entered the building. As the door shut behind them, Lucius took Layla's hand and squeezed it hard. "What's happening?" Layla said as quietly as she could manage through her ever-growing panic.

Lucius was silent for a moment, his face impossible to read through the mask. "Murder," he answered honestly. "Now, listen to me. You do _not_ have to kill anyone, understand?" Layla nodded. "Stand right here in this spot until I tell you otherwise." Layla nodded again, and Lucius quickly disappeared down the hall and up the staircase.

Layla leaned back against the floral pink wallpaper, forcing slow, deep breaths in an effort to calm herself. The house was deathly quiet except for her whispers of her new mantra to reassure herself. "This is beyond your control. This is beyond your control. This is beyond your control. This is beyond your –"

An ear-splitting shriek rattled the house, making Layla nearly jump out of her skin. A loud crash from upstairs sounded like a piece of furniture being toppled, and a man shouted, then fell unnaturally silent. The stairs thundered with an awful racket, then a woman appeared at the bottom of the steps, glancing over her shoulder in terror. The woman's eyes met Layla's, and she screamed again at the sight of Layla's cloak and mask. As they both realized that Layla was the only thing standing between this Muggle woman and the door with its promise of escape, Layla couldn't help the shaking in her limbs. The woman raced toward Layla, as if intent on pushing past her, but Layla raised her wand and murmured, "Petrificus Totalus." The woman froze mid-stride, her arms snapping to her sides and her legs gluing together, and she fell face-forward, stiff as a board.

Not even a second later, Lucius rushed down the stairs, wand out and blood staining his robes and mask. Layla couldn't help but flinch a little at the sight. He looked from Layla to the Muggle woman in the floor and back again, and she could hear the surprise and pride in his voice as he said, "Huh. Well done, dearest." Layla nodded, her entire body trembling. As Lucius approached Layla, he flicked his wand with a muttered, "Avada Kedavra," and the woman's body went from stiff to relaxed, otherwise unmoving. "Don't look at her," Lucius murmured, his still bloody gloved hand reaching up and touching her face through her mask, forcing her to look at him. Layla focused on his blue eyes under his mask, hoping to find comfort there, yet surprised when she did. He brushed his thumb over her cheek. "We have to go."

Lucius opened the front door behind her, and Layla followed him out of it back into the street. Snape, Rosier, and their mystery friend were already waiting in the street. A flash of green light filled a window of one of the houses, and Layla jumped slightly at the suddenness of it. A minute later, the LeStrange brothers came out of the house as smoke began to rise from a house across the street. Screams ripped through the silent night, then were cut silent. The flames were beginning to become visible in an upstairs window as Bellatrix and Regulus exited the front door of the house, Bellatrix giggling and clapping her hands. As she approached the others, Bellatrix pouted, "Oh, it really is such a shame that we couldn't stay longer. It's much more fun when you can take your time with them."

"We've done enough for tonight," Lucius said calmly. "It was merely an introductory lesson. It served its purpose." The glass shattered in the window of the house behind Bellatrix as the flames began to engulf the room upstairs and spread. Layla stared at it, eyes wide in horror. Lucius stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the fire. "Send up the Dark Mark, and let's be off," Lucius ordered.

It took a moment for Layla to realize that Lucius was speaking to her. She froze for a moment; she didn't even know the spell to brand the sky with the Dark Mark, and the thought of casting it herself made her sick. She hadn't seen the mark floating in the sky since the night of her parents' murders. Then Regulus's voice cut through her inner panic, whispering the incantation to her. Turning quickly, Layla took a few steps down the street, away from the group of Death Eaters, to prevent them from hearing the fear in her voice. She pointed her wand at the sky, and just as she was about to say the word, an elderly voice interrupted, "Young lady, what on earth are you doing?" Layla nearly jumped out of her skin, whipping around and pointing her wand at an old man with a walker on the front steps of his home. The old man stared at her in confusion, then his eyes widened. "I know what you are," he accused. "My brother's a wizard, you know, and he warned me about your sort. I'm going to call the police!"

Panic clawed at Layla's throat, and she reacted. Before the old man could so much as move a step toward his house, Layla flicked her wand out him, muttering, "Tonut Opprimo." A jet of turquoise light struck the man square in the chest. The look of sheer fear on his face as he looked from where the light hit his chest up to Layla was already too much, but then the spell took effect. He began wheezing, then water began to spill from his mouth. He coughed and gulped for air, reaching for his throat, violently coughing up water. Layla gasped and backed up a step, horrified by her own actions. As his lungs filled with salt water, he collapsed to his knees, the walker knocked over onto the ground a few feet away in the process. He coughed and sputtered and gasped a minute more, then fell over dead. Now desperate for a quick escape, Layla pointed her wand at the sky once more and cried, "Morsmordre!" The shape of a skull burned in the night sky, made up of brilliant emerald stars and hazy green smoke, and a serpent snaked its way out of the skull's mouth. Layla could almost hear it hiss as it opened its silent mouth, threatening the world.

Layla felt a tug on her shoulder and turned to see Lucius standing behind her. She glanced past him, and only now did she notice Bellatrix's cackling and cheering of Layla's actions. A shiver ran down Layla's spine as Lucius took her hand and led her back to the group. Everyone took hold of the newspaper once again, and this time, as they reappeared in Hogsmeade, Layla was certain that it wasn't the portkey that made her feel ill. She continuously readjusted her tight grip on her wand, unable to feel comfortable holding the weapon anymore, as Bellatrix continued to laugh, high on the destruction. The two older Death Eaters, Rodolphus and whoever the third was, stayed silent, but Rodolphus put a hand on his wife's lower back, and she leaned into him and began to talk to him, low and sweet. The stranger disapparated, apparently with no desire to spend any time lingering with the crowd.

Layla could feel everyone else's eyes on her, but she didn't care. She just wanted to get away from them. Back to the castle, back to Ravenclaw, back to her bed where the world was safe and made sense. Rabastan, Rosier, and Snape removed their masks and stashed them inside their cloaks, choosing to wander off from the others. Where they were going, Layla didn't know and didn't care. Regulus whispered to her, "Hey, are you ok?"

Layla exhaled a sharp, shaky breath, then turned on her heel and began to exit the alley in favor of High Street, unable to say anything to him. Lucius ran after her and grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop. "Wait," Lucius warned. "Take off your mask." As Layla obeyed, Lucius waved his wand in front of his own face, and his mask disappeared into a wisp of black smoke. He studied her face, his own filled with concern. He reached up and took her face in one hand again, brushing his thumb over her cheek, forgetting his gloves were still bloody and accidentally leaving a streak of Muggle blood behind on her cheek. "Are you all right?" he said under his breath.

Layla shook her head, just barely enough that Lucius perceived it due to having a hand on her jaw and neck already. "I told you," she barely breathed. "I don't want that."

"I know," Lucius soothed. "But it was necessary, just this once."

Layla leaned against Lucius's strong chest, finding a tiny portion of security there. She closed her eyes, then heard Regulus next to them. "Layla, we have to get back up to the school," he said, his voice no longer muffled by his Death Eater mask.

"No," Layla pleaded. "No, I don't want to go. I – I can't." She dug her fingers into the front of Lucius's robes, clinging to him. She looked up at him, eyes filling with tears.

Lucius sighed, brushing her hair back from her face, causing the hood of her cloak to fall back. "You have to, dearest," he said sadly. Layla glanced over his shoulder; Rodolphus and Bellatrix had disappeared. "If you don't, suspicion will immediately fall on you. Go back with Regulus."

Layla sniffed, rubbing her nose as she stepped away from Lucius. "Ok," she mumbled, knowing that he was right. Regulus offered her his hand, but she ignored it and turned on her heel, marching determinedly up toward the castle as Lucius disapparated.

Regulus allowed her silence all the way back to Hogwarts, but as they approached the front steps, he asked her, "Are you ok? I mean, everything back there, that was… Wow. I did not expect that from you at all."

Layla stopped short then, and he nearly ran into her. "No," she said. A choked sob escaped her throat then, and she hugged herself tightly. "I didn't expect that from me either. Snape was studying that curse with me yesterday, and I just…" She choked back another sob. "I killed them," she cried.

Regulus took her in his arms, holding her close as she cried into his shirt. "Layla, I'm so sorry," he said, his voice thick. "Malfoy promised me that you wouldn't actually have to do anything but send up the Dark Mark, that he'd protect you. I had no idea any of this would happen, or I would have never let them take you out on this mission tonight, Dark Lord be damned."

Layla begged, "Come up to Ravenclaw with me? Please? I can't – I mean, I don't want – just please, come with me?"

Regulus nodded. "Of course." The pair went inside, and he managed to deftly lead her up to Ravenclaw tower without bumping into any prefects or teachers. He answered the door knocker's riddle for her, then brought Layla inside. They found their way back over to their favorite couch and collapsed onto it. Regulus allowed Layla to lay on top of his chest as she started to cry again, petting her hair and soothing her as best he could. Just as he thought she must've cried herself to sleep, she looked up at him and asked, "Hey, Regulus? Did I pass the test?"

Shaking his head, Regulus said, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm pretty sure you passed the test. I doubt the Dark Lord will feel the need to test your loyalty to the cause ever again. I think you're safe now."

Layla nodded, then snuggled back into his chest as she mumbled, "Good." After a moment, she said, "Regulus? You know how you keep telling me that you'd kill for me?" He nodded. "I would, too. Kill for you."

Regulus processed that for a second, then sighed, reaching up and touching her cheek. "Yeah, I had a feeling you might."


	8. Chapter 8: Kill this Love

_I can't tell you what it really is; I can only tell you what it feels like. And, right now, it's a steel knife in my windpipe. I can't breathe, but I still fight while I can fight. As long as the wrong feels right, it's like I'm in flight. – Love the Way You Lie, Eminem & Rihanna_

 _Got me all messed up; his love is my favorite. But you plus me sadly can be dangerous… Gotta kill this love, before it kills you too. – Kill this Love, BlackPink_

* * *

 **January 15, 1978**

"Layla, wake up," Regulus muttered in her ear. Layla bolted upright, scrambling for her wand and breathing heavily. He stroked her back as she realized that she was still in the Ravenclaw common room on the couch with Regulus, perfectly safe. "Nightmare?"

Layla rubbed her eyes and looked back at him, fighting not to yawn. "Why'd you wake me?"

Regulus watched her carefully. "You were whimpering in your sleep, tossing and turning. I thought you were having a nightmare."

Shaking her head, Layla mumbled, "I'm fine."

Raising an eyebrow at her, Regulus asked, "Since when do you lie to me?"

Sighing, Layla pushed her hair back from her face. "What time is it?"

"Five in the morning."

"Ugh, I only got like an hour of sleep."

"I wanted to make sure you were ok," Regulus said, brushing a stray wave of black hair away from her neck.

Layla pulled away from his touch. "I'm fine; it was just a dream," she insisted. "I'm fine, really."

Growing defensive, Regulus argued, "Layla, you just drowned someone a few hours ago. An innocent bystander."

"Wrong place, wrong time," Layla muttered.

"Maybe so," Regulus said. "But you were the one who ended his life, and no one even asked you to do it. It was your first reaction. No one made you do it."

"So what?" Layla snapped. "He was like ninety; he'd have died soon anyway."

Regulus shook his head, pushing himself up to sit straighter. "Wow," he drawled. "That's not like you at all. You're not cold and callous like that. Last night, you were crying your eyes out for hours, miserable over the fact that you killed, what, two people?"

"One," Layla corrected. "I just – just paralyzed that woman, and Lucius killed her."

"Exactly, and it's not like you to just be 'fine' a few hours later."

"And how am I supposed to act?" Layla growled, maneuvering herself off Regulus's lap to sit on the other end of the couch and curling her legs under her. "Should I be some skittish, foolish, idealistic little girl the rest of my life? I'm trying to be more realistic these days; what's so wrong with that?"

"No, but you're not being yourself either. Being more realistic doesn't have to change who you are." He patted her arm, and said, "Layla, you don't have to cover up for me. I know you have to seem fine to everyone else for your own safety, but you don't have to pretend with me. You ought to know that by now. You can be honest with me, be _yourself_ with me."

Layla huffed, propping her elbow on the back of the couch and using her hand to support her head. "I _was_ honest with you, Regulus," she said quietly. "And you said no. You told me to go get engaged to Malfoy, and I did it."

Regulus raised an eyebrow at her. "Seriously? That's what you're upset about right now?"

"I'm upset about a lot of things," she said. "But yes, that's one of them, and it's on my mind."

"You'd have still had to go through that test if we'd started going out instead," Regulus reminded her. "It wouldn't have magically fixed everything."

"I know that."

"Lucius is better for you, safer for you. And you'll make a good match with him."

Sighing, she said, annoyed, "Yes, yes, I know that, too."

"Then where's the problem?"

"The problem," Layla snapped. "Is that I wanted it to be you, Regulus. I wanted to be with you, and you wanted to be with me, but we decided not to anyway. And now, you want things to stay the same. You want me to stay as open and honest with you as ever, and I just don't know that I can. And I mean, we just spent the night in bed – well, on the couch – together, and yeah, neither of us are bothered by it, but Lucius would be pissed as hell about it."

"Layla, come on," Regulus said, throwing their blanket over the back of the couch. "We're best friends, and I'd never lay on a hand on you in any way unless you wanted it that way. Everyone knows that, including Lucius."

Layla groaned, running her hand through her hair again. It was a pointless, losing argument. Because, of course, he was right. No one would ever doubt his intentions toward her; they may as well have been siblings as far as anyone else was concerned. "I am fine," she insisted, lying through her teeth. "I've just… My parents are dead; I left my life behind and came here. I lost everything, and all year, I keep trying to get it back when going back to before is never going to happen. I'm done trying to force myself to be the same person I was before all this."

"You don't have to be the same as you were before," Regulus said, taking one of her hands in his, intertwining their fingers. "But you don't have to lose yourself completely either. I feel like you're, I don't know, like you're starting to spiral out of control. I just worry about you. It's so hard to do things like that. It's brutal, and it leaves your very soul feeling… tainted. And I don't want you to go through that alone."

Layla squeezed his hand. "I'm not out of control," she said, softer than before. "I'm just not fighting anymore. I'm done fighting. This is the way things are, and I'm just… I'm just trying to go with the flow. I just want to survive at this point, and I'll do whatever it takes to survive."

"Including murder?" Regulus whispered.

Sighing, Layla nodded. "Yes," she admitted. "When necessary, yes. Better that I kill that man than let Bellatrix have him and drag it out into a horrific, agonizing death."

"What you did was still horrific and agonizing," Regulus reminded her gently. "You could've just used the Killing Curse. It would've been an easier, more humane death for him."

"I'm not ready to go that far yet," Layla snapped in frustration.

"Why, because it's been labeled as an Unforgivable Curse? Just because the Ministry labeled it as worse, doesn't mean it actually is."

"Fine, fine! I fucked up, Regulus. Are you happy now?" Layla said, jerking her hand away from his. "I'm fucking sick over what I did. And yes, I was having a nightmare about it. The first of many, I'm sure. What do you want from me here? It's like you said, if I can't force myself to be fine, it'll put me in danger. And if I can't justify it to myself, I'll lose my mind."

Regulus ran a hand through his hair and exhaled hard, thinking. "You do realize that I've been going through the same thing for a few months now, right? I mean, I haven't been allowed to cast any spells myself because of the Trace, thank Merlin, but that doesn't mean that Bellatrix hasn't found ways to… include me. I heard you last night, telling Malfoy that you didn't want this. Well, I've never wanted this either, you know. Please, just talk to me about this. I'll understand better than anyone, and you know you can tell me anything."

Letting her head roll back to stare at the starry ceiling. "Regulus, come on," she groaned. "I can't keep doing that to myself, or to you. It's too painful. The more we keep being this close, the harder it will be for me to be with Malfoy instead of you. I need to start talking about things with him more instead of you if I'm ever going to be close enough to him to start falling in love with him."

He sighed, grabbing his cloak from the floor and standing up. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he muttered. "After all, it's not as though married women can also be close friends with a man other than their husbands."

"That's not fair," Layla said, grabbing his hand. "That's not what this is. It's just… I won't cheat on him, Regulus. I won't. It's not fair to him to put him in that position. Because you damn well know, he'll marry me anyway to protect me and keep me safe, and he'll even still be good to me, even if he knows about it."

"Do you really think so little of me to think that I would encourage you to cheat on Malfoy with me?" he demanded.

"Of course, not," Layla said. "But I don't know that either of us would have the strength to resist the temptation either. I don't want to torture ourselves with something we can't have."

Regulus bit his lip, and Layla could practically see the wheels of his mind turning. "You're right. But I just…" He exhaled sharply. "I just wish it were me," he admitted quietly. "I know it's my own fault, that I told you to give up on me and marry him, but I just… It hurts, seeing you with him, and knowing that it could've been me, and I was too afraid of you getting hurt and it being my fault to get involved with you…"

Layla sat back, too stunned to speak for a minute. She pulled a hair tie off her wrist and began pulling her thick wavy hair up off her sweaty neck. "Why are you telling me this?" she mumbled, not sure how much more emotional pain she could take in one night.

Regulus stepped back and sat on the coffee table across from her. He rubbed his face with his hands, sighing heavily. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I would never, ever ask you to cheat on Malfoy."

Layla stared hard at him, watching as his conflicted brown eyes flickered between her face and his lap. "I don't know what to do with that," Layla said. "I mean, gods, you know I wish it were you, too. But we just can't. Maybe if you'd said something before Abraxas Malfoy went and announced the engagement to the whole damn world, but now…"

"Now, it's too late," Regulus finished for her. "I know. I blew it."

Layla sighed, "Yeah."

Regulus stood up again, cloak still in hand. "I should go," he muttered. Layla didn't protest as he strode to the common room door and disappeared through it without another word.

* * *

"Look at this," Sirius was practically yelling, standing over the Gryffindor table and throwing the _Daily Prophet_ on the table for his friends to look at when Layla finally came down to the Great Hall for breakfast. "Twelve Muggles dead in Norfolk last night, and the Dark Mark hanging over their homes."

Layla tried to ignore the Marauders overly loud conversation as she walked past them to the emptiest portion of the Ravenclaw table. "You're right, Padfoot," James said, just as angry. "It's so fucked up. Voldemort and his stupid Death Eaters have got to be bloody stopped."

Remus reminded them calmly, "We're already planning to join the Order of the Phoenix this summer, James. Until then, we have to let the Aurors do their jobs."

Lily Evans, who was sitting next to James, said, "Why aren't the Aurors stopping this? All those innocent people lost their lives so tragically, and for no good reason."

"Look," Sirius growled. "It says here that one house had two adults and two young children inside. All of them were murdered, and then their house was lit on fire. The fire spread to two houses next door before it could be stopped, but thankfully, no one in those houses got hurt. And then there's this, an old Muggle man was found in the street, drowned, his lungs full of salt water. Just in the middle of the damn street. Turns out, his brother is a wizard, works for the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Which means, this poor sod had to go out last night and help clean up his own brother's brutal murder."

"Poor thing," Lily murmured.

Layla struggled to eat a piece of toast at the Ravenclaw table, unable to stop listening to the conversation at the Gryffindor table. Her stomach roiled with anxiety and disgust. Something brushed against her shoulder, and she nearly jumped out of her skin at the sensation. Looking up, she found it was Sirius sitting down next to her, his arm bumping against hers. He tossed the _Daily Prophet_ down in front of her on the table. "Thought you should see what your boyfriend got up to last night," Sirius sneered at her.

Layla pushed the newspaper away from her plate. "Lucius wasn't part of that," she lied.

"Sure, he wasn't," Sirius drawled. "Even if it wasn't him, it was his friends."

"You have no proof of that," Layla snapped, dropping her piece of toast on a plate in frustration, giving up the idea of a peaceful breakfast.

"How about the Dark Mark in the sky? Is that proof enough for you?"

Rolling her eyes, Layla grumbled, "Would you just go the hell away, please?"

Sirius smirked. "Just thought you should be a little more aware of exactly who you're marrying and how he gets his rocks off. Bet you wish you'd stayed with me now instead of going with a murderer like Malfoy. But you know, it's not too late to back out of your engagement and do the right thing…"

"I _am_ doing the right thing, Black," Layla said firmly. "And I'd certainly never go out with the likes of you again."

"He's a murderer," Sirius said, lowering his voice. "The _Prophet_ says that one of the victims was even raped before being murdered. But of course, you know what that's like already, so you're probably used to being a Death Eater's whore by now…"

Layla slapped him across the face as hard as she could. Sirius's head snapped to the side, and he rubbed at his jaw. "Shut up," she snarled. "You've got no bloody right."

"Can you imagine how horrible that must've been for those people?" Sirius pressed anyway. "One rape victim, babies and small children murdered in front of their parents and vice versa, one man drowned in the street for just being a witness…"

Layla stood up, trying to walk away, but Sirius grabbed her wrist and stopped her as she passed him. "Let go of me."

"That's what your precious boyfriend was getting up to last night," Sirius repeated. "Arson, rape, murder…"

Layla pulled her wand, muttering, "Enough of this." She whipped her wand, hitting Sirius's hand with a Stinging Jinx. He hissed and let go of her wrist. She turned and ran out of the Great Hall, anxious to get away from the Gryffindor and the guilt of her actions.

"Hey!" The shout from behind her in the Entrance Hall forced Layla to stop and turn back to see the source instinctively. Sirius was behind her, his boys backing him up. "What's the matter, Danes? Can't stand to look at your boyfriend's handiwork? Trying to forget who you are and where you came from? News flash, sweetheart; you're not a pureblood, and you never will be, no matter who you marry."

"I couldn't give a fuck about blood purity," Layla said, raising her voice as a crowd started to gather around them. "But you need to back the fuck off of me and the people I care about. I won't ask twice, Black," she continued as she twirled her wand around her fingers, making a show of the threat.

Sirius scoffed, "Oh, please, Danes. Like you're dangerous enough to worry about. Little miss Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures expert. You wouldn't even scare a first year, much less the four of us. You're outnumbered, one to four."

"No, two to four." Regulus approached her from behind, his wand ready as he took a spot by her side. Layla gave him a grateful glance as Sirius and James drew their wands. "And let's not forget, Sirius; I've always had better marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts than you."

James said, "Figures you'd be right at her side, Black. Little baby Death Eater wannabe babysitting the full-grown Death Eater's girl?"

Regulus remained silent, so Sirius sneered, "Just look at you, little brother. Constantly following her around like a little lost puppy. It's pathetic, really, even for you. You know, she's never going to love you back. You've lost out to a bigger, badder death Eater."

"Stupefy." The red stream of light shot across the hall, a Shield Charm from James barely popping up in time to deflect the Stunning Spell away from Sirius. Layla said, "I told you, Black. I'm not asking twice. Leave my family alone."

Sirius snarled, jerking his wand up. "Yeah, what a family," Sirius mocked. "Bunch of psychotic murderers, torturers, Death Eaters, rapists –"

Layla and Regulus both fired their Stunning Spells in the same second. James threw up another Shield Charm but not fast enough; Regulus's spell hit him in the shoulder, and James went down with a loud thud. Layla's spell deflected off Sirius's shield and hit Peter Pettigrew, and the chubby boy flew back ten feet before falling to the ground unconscious. Remus pulled his wand, stepping up next to Sirius, looking reluctant to join the fight.

"What's the matter, Black?" Snape jeered from the sidelines. "Your little brother and your ex making you and your friends look like idiots? Of course, that's the usual for you lot, so I don't see why you'd be so upset about it…"

"Shut your trap, Snivellus!" Sirius barked.

Regulus tugged at Layla's arm as Sirius and Snape really started to get into it. "Let's go," he whispered. She nodded and allowed him to lead her away, and together they slipped into the dungeon. As they walked through the corridor, Regulus said quietly, "That was close. We could've easily ended up in detention or worse."

Layla hesitated, then said, "I'm sorry. I really tried not to fight with him, I did, but he just wouldn't let well enough alone, and…"

"Hey, don't worry about it," Regulus said, sounding fairly nonchalant, to the point where Layla couldn't tell if it was an act or not. "I know exactly what my idiotic brother's like. Everything's fine. We got away." Biting her lip, Layla followed behind him quietly, letting their fingers entangle as he held her hand. He halted in front of a bare stretch of the stone wall, and Layla bumped into his back, unable to stop quickly enough. "Taipan," he muttered, and the stone slid loudly away, revealing the entrance to Slytherin House.

As Regulus tugged her inside, Layla whispered, "What the hell are we doing here?"

"Well, here's the thing," Regulus said honestly. "What I really want to say right now is that we are going to go to my room, put a Silencing Charm on the bed curtains, and try to work out a way to be together. Maybe even snog, if you wanted to." He stopped and took a deep, ragged breath. "But, the reality of our situation is, there's some Floo powder on the mantlepiece, and you can go see Lucius, open up to him, get closer to him, and work on building a relationship with the guy you're going to marry."

Layla took half a step back, a little surprised at Regulus's words. "Why are you doing this?" Layla asked. "Why are you telling me these things?" Regulus shrugged, glancing down, shamefaced. "I mean, we can't keep doing this to each other. It hurts too much."

"Well, maybe now that we've both admitted it out loud, I don't want to stop saying it," Regulus said. "Maybe now that it's out there, I don't want to take it back. It's too painful to hold back now."

"Yeah, but now, it's too painful for me to hear," Layla said, the pitch of her voice rising a little with the stress of being hurt repeatedly. "First, you reject me and tell me to go be with someone else, and now you're telling me you want to be with me. I can't – I can't take it, Regulus. I can't take being jerked around like that."

"I don't want to jerk you around, Layla," he muttered, pulling her closer. He slowly, hesitantly, dropped a hand to her waist, daring to pull her a little closer. "Layla, I know you better than anyone. I want you to be safe more than anything, but…" He paused, gathering the courage to say what came next. "But I think I might be in love with you."

Layla rubbed at her eyes, forcing away the tears that were starting to build there. "Regulus, that's not fair," she groaned. "If you were going to say this, you should've said it back at the gala. It's too late for any of this now."

Regulus nodded his understanding. "You're right," he said quietly, dejected. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's just… I didn't realize how strongly I felt for you until I saw you with someone else. First at the gala, and then last night… I thought I could handle seeing you with him, being your best friend and nothing more, and that I'd eventually get over my stupid crush, and we'd both move on and be happy. But now… I'm not so sure I can handle it."

Layla faltered, unsure of her decisions now. After all, her choice to be with Lucius Malfoy had been based on the fact that Regulus didn't want to be with her. Knowing now that Regulus did want to be with her, that he might even love her… He was right, he knew her better than anyone in the world. For the longest time, he was the only person she totally trusted. And she'd already admitted to both Regulus and Lucius that she'd rather be with Regulus. The problem was that she had already promised herself to Lucius. "Breaking my engagement to Lucius would probably result in Abraxas coming after my head. That whole family would be out for my blood, except for maybe Lucius himself. And being with you would mean that your whole family would be trying to kill me, too."

Regulus quirked his mouth to one side, brown eyes filled with sadness. "I know, but I would fight like hell to protect you, from anyone and everyone. I'd die for you, Layla."

That jarred her back to reality. "And that's exactly what would end up happening if we got together, isn't it?" she said. "You'd die trying to protect me, and I'd continue to fight back, to try to avenge you, and I'd be far too outnumbered, with enemies on both sides, and I'd die too. Don't get me wrong; I would just as willingly die for you as you would for me, but…" She shook her head, taking two steps back, out of his arms. "I don't want that. I don't want you to die for me. I'd – I'd rather have you, alive and well, as my best friend, for the rest of our lives, than put you in that kind of danger."

"Layla, I'm willing to take the chance," Regulus insisted. "I know I wasn't before, but I am now."

"And now, I'm not," Layla said, so softly that he almost missed it. "I can't. I care too much about you. You were right, before, at the gala. It would be selfish of us to put each other in danger like that just to both end up dead anyway far too soon. I would rather see you live a long, happy life without me than see you dead before twenty."

"Layla –"

"No," she said, putting her foot down. "This is it. This is my decision. You made your choices, and I've made mine. This is where we are now, Regulus. Accept it, _please_ , or get out of my life, because I can't handle having this conversation again."

He started to reach for her, then let his hand fall at her words. He did his best to compose himself, then said, his voice thick with unshed tears, "Very well, then. I'm sorry, Layla. You're right. This isn't fair to either of us." He took a shaky breath. "I will hold my tongue in the future. I promise."

Layla nodded. "Thank you," she whispered.

Regulus nodded, no longer making eye contact with her. "The Floo Powder is over here," he mumbled, leading her down the marble steps, through the ornate green velvet and dark wood furniture of the Slytherin Common Room, and over to the elaborately carved mantlepiece over the large stone fireplace. He picked up a small jar and held it out to her, and she took a small handful of the sparkling powder inside. "Go spend the day with him. I'm sure he can make you feel better," Regulus said, his shoulders drooping. She nodded, tossing the powder in the fireplace and calling the name of her destination, giving Regulus a small sad wave goodbye as she stepped into the fireplace and disappeared into the Floo Network.

Layla stumbled out the other side into the foyer of Malfoy Manor. The whole mansion was silent as a morgue as she searched first the sitting room, then the dining room, then the library for Lucius. After searching all of his usual haunts around the house, Layla finally called for Dobby. When the house elf appeared, she asked, "Where is everyone?"

"Ah, hello, Missy Layla!" Dobby said excitedly. "Dobby wasn't expecting you home today, Miss. Master Abraxas has left for the mainland early this morning and shan't return until the summer solstice, and Master Lucius is still in bed in his room."

That surprised her. Lucius was very definitely a morning person; over the holidays, Layla had learned that the man was typically up with the sun and that he found it absolutely disgraceful if she slept even as late as nine in the morning. _"After all, half the morning is gone now, dearest,"_ he would say, teasing her as he forced her to get up in the mornings over the break. "He is? Really?" Layla asked, glancing at the clock on the library wall. It was already after ten.

"Yes, ma'am," Dobby answered, cheerful as ever. "Master Lucius got home around three this morning and spent the next hour drinking bourbon in the library, Missy Layla. He went to bed after that, giving Dobby instructions that he not be disturbed and that he would take no breakfast this morning."

"Huh." Layla glanced around and noticed for the first time the empty bottle of bourbon on the table next to the chair that barely contained one of his wolfhounds. The dog lifted its head, sniffing the air, and she held her hand out to it. It took in her scent, then licked her hand once before laying its head back down and closing its eyes, ready to go back to sleep.

"Shall I fix breakfast for Missy Layla?" Dobby asked eagerly.

She shook her head. "No, thank you, Dobby." Deciding to see if he was still asleep, Layla dismissed Dobby back to his usual chores, and she made her way upstairs until she found herself in front of his closed bedroom door. She knocked softly on the door and was met with silence. Opening the door, she peeked inside. It didn't surprise her in the least that his bedroom perfectly matched the Slytherin Common Room she'd just left. And somehow, it also didn't surprise her that there was a wall that was lined with bookshelves stuffed with double layers of books. What did catch her off guard was Lucius lying in bed, dead asleep, under a warm-looking deep green fleece blanket. She thought about leaving, going back to school and heading to Quidditch practice early; she knew she would have to return to the school that afternoon for mandatory Quidditch practice.

But she wasn't ready to go back to school, and she really did want to spend those few short hours with Lucius. She was horribly exhausted – mentally, emotionally, and physically – from the last twelve hours, and all she really wanted was for him to hold her together when she felt like she was falling apart, like he'd been offering to do ever since she got there. Layla slipped inside, shut the door silently behind her, and tiptoed across the room, opting for the side of the bed that he was the least sprawled across. She climbed gingerly onto the softest cloud of a bed she'd ever been on in her life and gently touched his shoulder, whispering his name.

Lucius jerked awake, and in under a second, he flipped her, making her squeal in surprise and pinning her to the mattress beneath him, his wand of elm and dragon heartstring against her throat. Layla stared up at him with wide, fearful eyes, worried that perhaps she'd made a terrible mistake. His blue eyes clouded in confusion. "Layla?" She nodded, afraid to breathe, much less speak. Sighing heavily with relief, he removed his wand from her neck and rolled off her. Now sitting up in bed, Lucius rubbed his face tiredly as he asked, "Dearest, what the hell are you doing here?"

Layla sat up slowly, feeling horribly foolish for having come back to the manor in the first place. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I should just go…"

"No!" Lucius exclaimed, making Layla jump slightly. "I'm sorry," he said, a little more calmly. "I just wasn't expecting to see anyone today. I didn't mean to imply that I didn't want you here. Please, stay." She hesitated, then nodded. He rearranged his pillows to better support them, and, leaning back against the pillows, he waved her over, offering to hold her. She snuggled up to him, resting her head on his bare chest. He wrapped his arms around her, and she allowed his warmth and strength to make her feel safe. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Lucius pressed, "Why did you come home today, Layla? You should be at school. Don't you have Quidditch practice today?"

Layla answered, "Yes, but not until three this afternoon. I just…" She was still a bit loathe to admit it; a part of her old self was still screaming bloody murder inside her, protesting the very idea of being on good terms with any Malfoy. She forced herself to say anyway, "I just needed a little time with you."

Lucius shifted under her, readjusting to make them both more comfortable. "Because of last night?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Layla mumbled, pressing her cheek harder against Lucius's chest and holding to him tighter as the memories hit her. "And some other things, too."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh? What else is bothering you?"

"Everything."

He seemed to think it over a minute, and for just a second, she thought maybe he wouldn't care. After all, her stupid little pissing contests with Sirius Black were just so childish and ridiculous compared to the problems of murder and dark magic from last night, and she shouldn't even get into her fight with Regulus and the way they'd broken each other's hearts all over again. Just because he was her fiancé didn't mean he had to give a shit about her every little problem. Then Lucius said, "Well, then tell me about everything," and her heart melted a little, and she realized that she _wanted_ to tell him everything and was simply afraid of being mocked or disregarded.

So, she told him everything. The way the attack on the Muggle village had torn her to pieces. How she'd struggled to breathe right ever since she'd cast that spell to drown that Muggle man, and the shivers of cold and fear that ripped through her every time she'd had to go near water since then. The way that she was terrified of what Bellatrix might twist Regulus into if she managed to keep her filthy claws so deeply embedded in his skin. The horror and revulsion that had filled her to the point of nearly vomiting then and there when Sirius had confronted her with the front-page article of the _Daily Prophet_ over breakfast. How terrified she was that Voldemort might start asking her to do more and more things like the attack the previous night with the Death Eaters, and how her mind, heart, and soul simply couldn't take another night like that one. All of the horrible, nasty things Sirius Black and James Potter had been saying to her face since the term began and her engagement became public knowledge, and all the sick, twisted rumors that the sixth and seventh year girls had been circulating about her all year, thinking she was oblivious to their words, when the truth was that Layla heard every one of them, and the gossip had burned her like a brand.

The only item she withheld was the fight with Regulus and his declaration of love for her, and even more so, the way she felt about him. _That_ she decided was none of his business, and she could handle for herself.

By the time Layla had finished, the pair were completely laying down in the bed, and Lucius had tugged the covers over her and pulled her close as they faced each other. Layla had broken down crying more than once, slowing the communication process, but he never once interrupted her or rushed her. He gave her all the time she needed to expunge the darkest stains from her soul, and he absorbed it all without flinching. Not once, did he make her feel like she wasn't being heard, like what she was saying was stupid or unimportant.

Raising a thumb to her face, he wiped the tears off her cheeks, then placed a sweet kiss on her forehead. Layla fully expected a lecture, based on his six extra years of life experience – some pompous yet sensible advice that she'd resent, but was generally right, maybe even a few clichés on how to handle gossip and bullies, or some speech on the values of blood purity and how she ought to be grateful for any and all chances to serve the _Dark_ _Lord_. Instead, he said quietly, "I am so, so sorry, dearest. I knew that Black and his friends were picking on you, but I truly had no idea just how badly they were bullying you. Or that the other girls were being so cruel. I wish there was something I could do to put an end to that, but I'm afraid those girls are outside of my power. Black and his friends, however, I might be able to do something about, if that's what you desire, but I understand if you wish to handle that situation yourself. As for any further missions with the Death Eaters…" He sighed heavily. "The Dark Lord and I spoke on that subject at length last night, after I sent you home."

"You did?" Layla gasped, anxiety filling the pit of her stomach.

Lucius nodded. "Yes. I'll admit, he was very hopeful that you could be convinced to join the Death Eaters officially. He seemed to think he'd found another servant who could be as dangerous as Bellatrix." Layla's breath hitched in her throat, terrified that he had signed her up to take the Dark Mark. "I told him no," Lucius said, tenderly brushing her hair back from her face. The relief shot through her system like an injection of morphine, and Layla instantly relaxed, breathing out heavily. "It wasn't easy, but I got you out of having to ever go on any Death Eater attack ever again."

Worry overcame her again, and Layla dared, "What did you tell him?"

He debated the wisdom of answering for a second, then answered truthfully, "I said that you had no desire to become a Death Eater because your intentions for the future were entirely family-focused."

Frowning, Layla asked, "What does that mean?"

Lucius glanced down then, not meeting her eyes, as though ashamed of what he was about to say. "It means that Voldemort is expecting you to not accept any employment after Hogwarts. He fully expects you to be a proper pureblood wife."

Pushing back a bit from Lucius with a hand on his chest, she said, incredulous, "Wait, so you mean, like, a stay-at-home mom? I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life playing dutiful housewife and mother, constantly pregnant with perfect little Malfoy babies?"

Malfoy shook his head. "No, not at all." Then he amended, "Well, maybe a little. But Layla, we've been over this. I don't care when you're ready to have kids; I'm not going to force that on you. You're in charge of that; you get to make all the decisions about when you're ready for sex and children. But, sadly, I'm afraid that yes, the idea is essentially a typical domestic housewife. But you should know, that I don't care whether you actually stay at home or not."

"Right," Layla sneered. "I just can't ever work a day in my life and be independent."

"Hey," Lucius said, clearly offended, removing his hand from the back of her neck. "As far as I'm concerned, as long as we are married, you have all the independence you could possibly desire, as long as you stay safe and come home to me at the end of every day." When Layla raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, Lucius said, "Yes, really. Do whatever the hell you want, spend my money however the hell you want, stay out until all hours of the night every night if you want. Hell, even cheat on me all day every day if you absolutely must in order to be happy. But those are my two rules: stay safe and come home to me at some point every night. Do you agree to those terms?"

Layla thought for a moment, then nodded. She snuggled closer to him, and she felt him let out a breath he'd been holding. "Ok, those are reasonable rules," she said quietly. A yawn overcame her, then she added, "I'm not going to cheat on you, by the way."

Surprised, Lucius looked her in the eyes, searching for a bit of hope to hang on to there. "Really? But… Regulus."

"What about him?"

"We both know how you feel about him. And, apparently, most everyone in Hogwarts can see how desperately in love he is with you." He hesitated, then said carefully, "If he's the only one who can truly make you happy, then I don't want to stand in between you. I know you're marrying me because you feel like you have no other choice, but I want to go ahead and give you this choice now before it becomes a problem down the road. You can be with him, just be publicly married to me, and come home to me every night, so I can at least maintain the appearance of pride and dignity."

Layla's heart broke for Lucius, listening to him go on about her cheating on him for Regulus and the obvious pain it would cause him if she did, despite his willingness to allow her to do so if it was what it took to make her happy. "Stop," she said softly, moving her hand on his chest to cover his heart. "I wasn't planning to tell you this, but Regulus and I have already talked about this." He hid it well, but Layla could still see the flicker of hurt in Lucius's eyes. "We're not going to get together, ever. I have absolutely no plans to ever cheat on you, and I told Regulus as much. He agrees." He looked at her hopefully, cupping her face in his hand, desperate to believe her. She continued, "I mean it. I told him that I couldn't do it, that I couldn't be with him. I won't lie; we do both have feelings for each other, and that's not going to just magically disappear, but… But I would never stoop to cheating on you, Lucius, with anyone. I'll get over Regulus, eventually."

Lucius nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Thank you," he breathed. Layla smiled sadly at him, leaning into his touch on her face, before suddenly and finally drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

* * *

A tender kiss on the cheek woke Layla, and she grumbled, trying to snuggle back down under the covers, burying her face in her pillow. A soft chuckle made the corners of her mouth turn upward, despite her will to stay asleep. "Wake up, Layla," he whispered.

"No," she mumbled, trying her hardest not to smile at Lucius.

"Are you sure? Because Dobby has brought you your favorite lunch in bed," he tempted.

Layla took a deep breath, finally noticing the greasy scent in the air. "Pizza?" she asked, peeking up at Lucius from her pillow.

He laughed a little, then confirmed, "Yes, pizza. And eat it quickly. It's already two, and you have to be at Quidditch practice in an hour, correct?" Layla nodded and bolted upright, grabbing the shockingly Muggle pizza box and pulling it onto her lap, picking up a slice and stuffing her face.

As the two shared a pizza in Lucius's bed, they shared lighthearted discussions, jokes, teasing, and laughs as they scarfed down the pizza. Just as Layla let Lucius have the last slice, she asked him, "Lucius?" He glanced at her curiously, his mouth full of pepperoni. "Why are you doing this? I mean, really. Being so nice to me, taking care of me, listening to me, caring about my problems, marrying me. Just… why? It can't just have been chivalry, rescuing a damsel in distress. Maybe if it had just been that first couple of days in September and then we were done, but not after all this. Why?"

Lucius swallowed his bite of pizza, then answered, "I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't in large part due to chivalry in the beginning, and you were so very frustrating the first couple of months, I had started to consider giving up on you. I thought for sure you were going to turn to Black and the Order for security." He shook his head. "I really thought I was going to lose you to them. And I was already…" He hesitated, then pressed on, "I was already starting to fall in love with you. You were refusing to talk to me or even acknowledge my letters, but Regulus's reports on your life were so detailed, at least at first, that I felt like I knew you anyway. And then everything that happened in Hogsmeade at Halloween…"

"Rabastan," Layla said quietly, remembering that horrible party with a shudder.

Lucius nodded. "The way you looked at me after that, in that room at the Leaky Cauldron, after what he and Narcissa did to you… The way you reached out for me… I was gone. I knew then that I could never let anyone hurt you in any way, ever. You were… so sweet but so broken. I just wanted to…" He sighed heavily, fully letting his guard down for the first time since Layla had known him as he pushed blonde hair back from his forehead. "Aww, hell, I just wanted to be your hero. To spend the rest of my life making you feel as safe and loved and cherished as you deserve." Layla felt her cheeks heat up at that. "Even – Even if you never love me back, I just want to be there for you, however I can, to keep you safe and happy, no matter what it costs me and my own happiness. That's why you're setting the boundaries for any physical relationship or children, because I want you to be happy. I want it to be your choice to be with me, even if you feel like you have no choice about marrying me."

Layla's heart fluttered in her chest, heat rushing through her skin all over her body. Even though she hadn't known it herself, Lucius had managed to say everything she'd been hoping to hear since her time jump, or really, maybe even her entire life. Relief and emotional turmoil washed over her in equal measures – gratefulness for his love and kindness, balanced by the guilt and self-loathing she'd developed in that week her Muggle parents were murdered and she was captured, tortured, and raped by the Snatchers, all wrapped together in a big bow of a sense of worthlessness, like she couldn't possibly deserve someone so kind, loving, caring, and sensitive to her wants and needs. Tears stung her eyes, and her voice broke a little as she said, "Lucius, I… Thank you."

He seemed astonished at her emotional reaction, but he reached out anyway, taking the pizza box from her and tossing it carelessly in the floor. As soon as the box was out of the way, Layla pounced on Lucius, climbing into his lap and straddling him, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. He made a small noise of surprise, then laughed softly, his hands naturally falling to her hips to pull her in closer. They snogged for several minutes until Lucius broke off the kiss with a breathless chuckle. He trailed his fingers lovingly down the side of her face, to her throat, and across her collarbone. A low humming of desire emanated from his throat, and he glanced up to make eye contact with her, finding her smiling slightly at him and trying to hide the fact that she was wiping tears out of her eyes. He pulled her back in and pressed a single, sweet kiss to her lips. "You need to get back to school for Quidditch practice," he reminded her gently. With a quick glance up and down her body, he added, "Even if I'd much rather you stay here with me the rest of the afternoon."

Groaning, Layla crawled off his lap and got out of the massive bed. Lucius followed closely behind her, unable to keep his eyes from appreciating her… assets. He walked her down to the entrance hall of the manor, ready to send her back through the Floo to Hogwarts. As they stopped in front of the fireplace, Layla turned back to face Lucius, leaning into his chest. "I don't want to go back yet," she whined softly. "I want to stay here with you."

"Aww," Lucius cooed with a grin, trying hard not to laugh. "I'm sorry, dearest, but you really must. You'll be home to stay in a few more months. You can handle it. And when you feel like you can't, I'm only an owl or Floo call away."

Layla hesitated, then nodded, knowing he was right. She tossed the Floo powder into the Fireplace and came out the other side in the Ravenclaw common room, rushing up to her dorm to change into her Quidditch uniform and grab her broomstick before racing to the Quidditch pitch, running late for practice.

* * *

 **Please leave a review!**


	9. Chapter 9: Broken

_'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome, and I don't feel right when you've gone away. – Broken, Seether feat. Amy Lee_

* * *

 **January 31, 1978**

"Danes." Snape's deep voice came from her left, and Layla jumped slightly as he slammed his bag onto the library table next to her. "We need to talk."

Layla raised an eyebrow at the Slytherin, slightly unnerved by his aggressive tone. Not that he wasn't always slightly aggressive, but this felt different – more directed toward a particular point. "Oh?" she said, doing her best to cover her anxiety as she resumed writing her Charms essay. "What about, Snape?"

"Just an interesting tidbit of information," Snape smirked as he sat in the chair beside her. "As you well know, Lucius Malfoy has been regularly giving me instructions on which particular curses and counter-curses he wishes me to teach you. Interestingly enough, he has requested that I teach you one of my particular favorites, a curse of my own invention, the Sectumsempra Curse." Layla froze, her quill hovering over her parchment, ink dripping and splattering on her essay. Snape grinned wickedly, knowing he had her cornered. "The strange thing is, you told me he had already taught you that curse."

Clearing her throat, Layla put her quill down and said, "Well, perhaps Lucius meant to teach me the counter-curse, since we've already established that I don't know how to undo that spell."

Snape shook his head. "I spoke with him directly on the subject, though that was a valiant attempt to escape my suspicion. He was very specific that he had not instructed you on the curse, and that I needed to teach you both the curse and the counter-curse immediately. Now, why would that be, if he's already taught you the curse? Unless, of course, you're lying."

"Why would I lie?" Layla said, doing her best to remain nonchalant and ignore the growing panic inside her chest. "Where else could I have learned it?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at her, his grin vanishing. "That's the part I can't quite work out. See, other than a few select Death Eaters, such as Lucius, I have taught that spell to no one."

"Maybe I read it in a book somewhere," Layla suggested, offering a half-truth.

"It can't be found in any book on Curses or Dark Magic because I invented the spell myself. The only book it is recorded in has never left my personal possession."

Layla sighed, then offered a bold lie. "Fine. I'm a ridiculously powerful Legilimens. You caught me. Truth is, I accidentally ripped it from your mind seconds before I cast it. Oops."

"Nice try," Snape mocked. "You can't have pulled it from my mind, because I'm too good at Occlumency for that. No one could have broken my mental defenses like that without me knowing about it."

Layla took a deep breath and lied, "I'm sure Lucius just forgot that he'd taught me the spell last summer."

"Possible, but unlikely," Snape said. "Nice try. Tell me how you really learned that spell."

Bracing herself for any blowback, Layla looked up from her parchment and met Snape's void black eyes. "No," she said firmly as she stared him down.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, no," Layla repeated. "I will tell you nothing, Snape."

Snape stared at her for a hard, long minute, his face unreadable. "Very well, then," he said coldly. "Then there's really no reason for us to continue these tutoring sessions."

"Snape, don't forget Lucius's orders," Layla said, just a hint of a threat in her tone. Ever since he'd started tutoring her, Layla's scores in both Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts classes had gone up drastically, and she didn't want to lose that resource.

"Lucius is not the Dark Lord, even if he occasionally likes to think so," Snape sneered. "I don't have to obey him. I will not continue to teach Dark Magic and the defense against it to someone I cannot trust. It's as simple as that."

Layla argued, "And how do I know that I can trust you in return?" Snape paused as he threw his bag over his shoulder, thinking. "Not even Regulus knows the answers you're looking for, Snape. Why the hell would I tell _you_ anything about me?"

Silence passed between them. Snape said quietly, "Perhaps you shouldn't. But you should know, I'm better at keeping secrets than anyone else in this school. Maybe even better than Dumbledore."

"How do I know that's true?" Layla said suspiciously.

Snape sighed, sitting back down in the chair beside her. "Because it's true, I'm the best Occlumens in this school," he said, and for a moment, Layla thought he was just bragging, exaggerating his abilities. But then, she realized that he must be telling the truth. How else could Professor Snape spend nearly twenty years teaching potions, pretending to work for the Order of the Phoenix, then turn around her sixth year and murder Professor Dumbledore? She knew Dumbledore was a highly skilled Legilimens; she hadn't even managed to keep the headmaster out of her mind, merely deflect and redirect his attacks to pointless, useless memories such as children's television programs she grew up watching. Fear told her that she still couldn't trust Snape; he was a Death Eater, or about to be if he wasn't already. He wasn't like Lucius and Regulus; Snape had the choice to walk away from that path, and he was choosing to go down it anyway, which made his crimes that much worse. "I'm also very talented at Legilimency," Snape threatened. "If necessary, I can force the secret from you."

Glaring at him, Layla said sarcastically, "Oh, yes, you big bad Death Eater, that's so obviously the way to win over a girl's trust and loyalty; threaten to exploit her mind and steal her deepest, darkest secrets. That's the perfect tactic."

Snape took a breath, then said through ground teeth, "Right. _Sorry_."

Layla narrowed her eyes further at him and ignored the forced apology. Deciding on a small test, she maintained eye contact with Snape and reached for his mind, only to meet the hardest wall she'd ever felt. Since she'd started practicing Legilimency and Occlumency her fifth year, inspired by a library book, the only mind this guarded she'd ever encountered was still Severus Snape, though he had been older at the time obviously. She retracted her spell from his mind, and said quietly, "Fine. If you will teach me to be as good at Occlumency as you, then I will allow you to see into my mind enough to discover why I know your secret spell if you will keep the secret to yourself."

Tilting his head slightly, Snape agreed, "Very well. We'll start on Saturday night and –"

"Hold it," Layla interrupted. "I'm not going to just trust you with this. I'll agree to these terms only if you swear to them with an Unbreakable Vow."

Snape scoffed. "You can't be serious."

"Can't I?"

Snape's cold black eyes drilled into her, but Layla refused to back down. "As you wish," he finally, tensely agreed. "I'll arrange for Regulus to administer the Vow for us on Saturday night. Then we will begin your training." Layla nodded, and Snape snatched his bag up and stormed out of the library.

* * *

 **February 4, 1978**

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Regulus asked for what felt like the hundredth time that day, but was, in fact, only the hundredth time since Tuesday.

Layla rolled her eyes as she and Regulus waited for Snape in the Hogwarts kitchens. "No," she answered sarcastically. "I think this is probably the worst mistake I could ever make, but hey, why _not_ do it?"

"Layla," Regulus reprimanded, and she exhaled sharply. "I'm serious."

"No, you're Regulus, and thank Merlin."

Regulus huffed irritably. "Layla!"

"All right, all right," she said, stealing a yummy-looking pastry off a nearby tray and taking a bite. "I'm not one hundred percent certain, but what else can I do here? This is the best option I can think of. Now, are you going to help me or not?"

Regulus sighed heavily, then nodded. "Yes, of course, you know I'll help you. It'd be nice if I knew what the hell it is that you're trying so hard to hide that you're forcing Snape to choose between keeping your secret or dying."

Layla shook her head. "Sorry, no can do," she said between bites of pastry. "I actually care about you, unlike Snape. If Snape chooses to throw his life away by exposing my secret, then fine. But I'm not going to put you in harm's way by telling you."

"Such charming sentiments." Snape's sarcasm sneaked up on the pair from behind, making them both jump. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Layla nodded, and Regulus stood up next to her, offering her his hand to help her up. She accepted his hand, standing to face Snape, doing her best to believe herself when she said that this was the best option. She had talked over the incident with Snape with Lucius that night, and he had agreed that she'd made the best of a bad situation, praising her cleverness in forcing him to take an Unbreakable Vow to keep her secret. Still, it was difficult to consider trusting Severus Snape, of all people, with her life. Regulus took a deep breath, then said reluctantly, "Ok, let's do this then. Take each other's hand, and swear what you must."

Snape offered his wand hand to Layla, and she hesitated a moment before she accepted it. His firm grip held her still as Regulus placed the tip of his wand against their hands. Layla looked up from their hands and met Snape's dark, unreadable eyes. "Do you swear to teach me to be the best that I can be at Occlumency and Legilimency?" Layla asked.

"I will," Snape said, and something in the tone of his voice rang as sincere to Layla. A thin flame of fire shot from Regulus's wand and encircled Layla and Snape's handshake, hovering just above their skin.

She continued, "And do you swear to keep anything you find in my mind during this training or that I tell you regarding my personal history a secret unless otherwise permitted by me to share it, no matter what it may cost you?"

Snape hesitated for half a moment, then said, "I will." Another tongue of flame engulfed their hands. At the last second before Regulus completed the spell, Snape added quickly, "Layla, do you swear to keep any of my secrets that you may find in my mind during the course of your training a secret as well, unless otherwise permitted by me to expose?"

Faltering, Layla searched Snape's face, wondering what sort of secret he could possibly be hiding that he wanted to hold her to an Unbreakable Vow to protect it. "I will," she said softly, and a third ribbon of flame tied itself around their hands. Regulus glanced back and forth between the two, concerned, but he finished the spell anyway. The flames closed in on their skin and seared through their hands with all the pain of true fire, but left no marks or pain upon disappearing.

Snape nodded to Regulus as Layla said, "Thanks. I think we can take it from here."

Slightly incredulous, Regulus said, "Wait, you want me to go now? Just you and Snape? Really?"

Layla said calmly, "Regulus, he's just teaching me magic. It's not like…" She trailed off, not willing to finish that thought. "I know what I'm doing," she said instead.

He looked a bit frustrated but seemed to shrug it off. "Fine. I'll see you later then." Layla nodded, and Regulus marched out of the kitchen.

Snape pulled out his wand and pointed it at Layla. "Let's get started then," he said with a sadistic smile. "Legilimens."

* * *

" _You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach…"_

" _What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"_

 _At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling._

" _I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try asking her?"_

 _A few people laughed; Harry caught sight of Seamus's eye and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased._

" _Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel, and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"_

 _There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter…"_

* * *

" _Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox."_

* * *

"' _. . . Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate.' How very touching," sneered Snape, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Slytherins. "Well, I think I had better separate the three of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than on your tangled love lives…"_

* * *

" _You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape._

" _Yes," said Snape quietly._

" _But you were unsuccessful?"_

 _Snape's lip curled. "Obviously…"_

* * *

" _Caught these two trying to help the Weasley girl," Draco Malfoy said proudly, shoving Neville Longbottom and Layla Emerson into Umbridge's sickeningly sweet pink office, the door shutting behind them._

 _As Draco held Layla harshly by the arm behind Umbridge's desk, along with several other Dumbledore's Army members, Umbridge demanded of Harry Potter, who was seated in the chair before her, "You were going to Dumbledore, weren't you?"_

" _No," Harry denied, and Umbridge slapped him across the face with a loud crack._

 _The door opened, and Snape said, "You sent for me, Headmistress?"_

" _Snape, yes," Umbridge said, standing up straight. "The time has come for answers, whether they want to give them to me or not. Have you brought the Veritaserum?"_

" _I'm afraid," Snape replied coolly, "That you've used up all my stores of Veritaserum interrogating students, the last of it on Miss Chang. Unless you wish to poison him, and I can assure you, I would have the greatest sympathy if you did, I cannot help you…"_

* * *

 _The Death Eater stalked forward, the heavy fall of his every step sending a flutter of fear through Layla's heart. This was so incredibly different from the Death Eater dummies in their training room – this was real, and it was dangerous. "Where's Sirius?" Harry demanded, desperate to protect his godfather._

" _You know," Lucius Malfoy's voice floated, smooth as honey, from behind the mask. "You should really learn to tell the difference, between dreams," he turned his mask to smoke with a wave of his wand, "and reality. You saw only what the Dark Lord wanted you to see. Now, hand me the prophecy."_

" _You do anything to us, I'll break it," Harry threatened bravely._

 _A mad giggle came from the darkness behind Lucius. "He knows how to play! Itty… bitty… baby… Potter," Bellatrix mocked as she prowled her way from the shadows to stand behind Lucius._

" _Bellatrix LeStrange," Neville said, horrified._

" _Neville Longbottom, is it?" the older woman cooed. "How's mum and dad?"_

" _Better now that they're about to be avenged," Neville snapped, fear turning to rage. Both raised their wands aggressively, but Harry and Lucius stepped between them._

" _Let's everybody just calm down, shall we?" Lucius said gently. "All we want is that prophecy…"_

* * *

" _Hey, Layla," Harry Potter said as he and Ron Weasley sat down across from her at the Ravenclaw table. She paused eating the ham and cheese sandwich that was her lunch, raising an eyebrow at the two boys. "I came across this spell in this book, handwritten in, but I've never heard of it before."_

" _So?" Layla said._

" _So," Ron said, dragging out "o" awkwardly. "You're a smart girl, constantly reading, basic nerdy Ravenclaw."_

 _Layla rolled her eyes at the ginger Gryffindor. "Astute observation, Ron."_

 _Harry said quickly, "We were just hoping that you might know something about it, since you're the only person in the D.A. as well read as Hermione, and she didn't know."_

 _Sighing, Layla said, "Fine, then. Show me."_

 _Harry immediately handed over a battered old copy of_ Advanced Potion-Making, _and Layla accepted it, careful not to lose the page that Harry was holding open for her to read. She saw the handwritten note "Sectumsempra," with no other annotations on the subject. She frowned, then shook her head. "I've never heard of it. It's not in any of the books I've read, but I'm not sure I'd test it out on anything I particularly cared about keeping. You never know what a random spell like that might do." Harry nodded, disappointed in her answer, but thanked her anyway before heading back with Ron to the Gryffindor table…_

* * *

" _Mummy," Layla said, her tiny form squeezing between her mother and father on the soft pale blue sofa of her childhood home. "I want biscuits."_

" _They're in the kitchen, dear," Mum said with a smile. "We'll get them for you in just a minute if you're patient."_

 _Layla scrunched up her face. Obviously, a minute was too long to wait for biscuits. All she wanted was sweet, delicious, warm, gooey chocolate chip biscuits, they just need to get here from the kitchen…_

 _Five seconds later, the biscuits came flying from the kitchen, landing perfectly in Layla's lap. Her parents stared in shock at their toddler. "Honey, how did you get those biscuits?" Dad asked._

 _Layla smiled up at him as she took a big bite of biscuit. She chewed thoughtfully, then shrugged. "Magic, I guess."_

* * *

 _The seventh floor had filled with Peruvian darkness powder, blinding Layla as she stood watch with Seamus and Dean at the floor's entrance. She lit up her wand with a simple charm, but the light did nothing to penetrate the darkness._

 _It was a mere minute later that the entire floor broke out in an all-out war, Order members alongside Dumbledore's Army against the multitude of Death Eaters who had suddenly poured from the Astronomy Tower. Layla found herself alongside Auror and Order member Nymphadora Tonks, desperately attempting to contain the wild Death Eater Thorfinn Rowle, who was chaotically throwing Killing Curses in every possible direction, one of which had hit one of his fellow Death Eaters._

" _Reducto!" Harry shouted, blasting Rowle into the air and away from Layla and Tonks._

 _Layla grabbed hold of Harry's arm as he tried to race past her, firing curses at the Death Eaters. "What's happened?" she demanded._

" _Snape killed Dumbledore," Harry snapped quickly, yanking his arm free and running after the Death Eaters as they slipped into a secret passage, just ducking into the tunnel before it closed. Layla stared after him, eyes wide with disbelief and terror._

* * *

 _Layla screamed, thrashing against the Snatcher's hold on her arms as another man drew the knife's blade across her father's throat. Her sobs were then drowned out by her mother's screams as yet another Snatcher dragged the older woman to her feet. "Oh, let's see, what will we ever do with Mummy dearest?" he purred._

" _Get away from her!" Layla shrieked, trying desperately to reach her wand where it had fallen to the floor by her feet. The Snatcher behind her held her too tightly, though, and she couldn't move at all._

" _Shut it, mudblood!" the man facing her mother barked angrily, and the man behind Layla suddenly punched her in the stomach. She doubled over in pain, unable to breathe and still unable to reach her wand._

" _Don't you touch my daughter!" Mum yelled, tears for her husband still streaming down her face even as his blood streamed from his throat. Layla was still couldn't breathe as the Snatchers slowly began to cut at her mother's skin, torturing her for what felt like hours before they finally cut her throat so deeply that it slashed her spinal cord. Layla screamed and thrashed, still fighting to get free to protect her mother…_

* * *

 _The Snatcher behind Layla grabbed her ink-black hair by the roots and yanked, pulling her head back and exposing the vulnerable skin of her pale neck. Layla hissed at the pain in her scalp as Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix LeStrange watched. "You're one of Potter's friends," Malfoy accused. "You were with those children in the Department of Mysteries."_

 _"Where is Potter?" Bellatrix spat, more impatient than Malfoy._

 _Layla stayed silent until the Snatcher holding her hair pulled it again, shaking her head. She gasped, then said defiantly, "I don't know."_

 _Bellatrix whipped her wand at Layla, hitting her in the chest with a Stinging Jinx. Layla squealed and tried to move away from the pain, but the Snatcher held her firmly in place… "You're lying," Bellatrix purred. "He trusts you. You're part of his little army of babies. Where is your precious leader, mudblood? Where is Harry Potter?"_

 _Before Layla could say a word, Bellatrix flicked her wand at the young girl again, placing her under the Cruciatus Curse. Layla screamed and writhed against the grip of the Snatcher, who forced her to continue standing. When Bellatrix finally released her, Layla gasped, "I don't know anything about Potter; I swear!"_

 _"You filthy, lying little mudblood," Bellatrix sneered. The Death Eater lieutenant pulled a dagger from the belt at her waist. She delicately traced her way down Layla's neck with the tip of her knife as Layla whined and did her best not to move, fearful of the damage the slightest movement could cause. The knife cut the lightest of lines down her neck, missing her jugular vein and carotid artery, by sheer luck or design, Layla couldn't be sure. Bellatrix lightly pulled the knife down across Layla's collarbone, her shoulder, and her arm, tugging it against the girl's sweater, until the tip cut through the fabric and rested lightly against the skin of her left forearm. Bellatrix held Layla's arm under the tip of her dagger firmly as she asked again, "Where is that dirty halfblood, Potter?"_

 _Layla said, terror replacing the defiance in her tone, "I don't know. I haven't heard from him since the end of last school year; I promise."_

 _Bellatrix grinned at her. "I don't believe you," she hissed, then dug the blade into the skin and muscle of Layla's forearm. Shrieking, Layla struggled, but between Bellatrix's grip and the hold of the Snatcher, she couldn't escape from Bellatrix as the older witch carved up her arm. After what seemed like hours, Bellatrix removed the knife from Layla's destroyed flesh, and Layla sagged sobbing against the Snatcher, unable to hold herself on her feet any longer. "I'll ask this once more before I throw you into the dungeon with our resident werewolf to be eaten alive," Bellatrix said. "Where is Harry Potter?"_

 _Weakly shaking her head, Layla cried, "I don't know. Please, I don't know anything!"_

* * *

 _Layla weakly struggled to her feet as Malfoy exclaimed, "Who the bloody hell are you, and how did you get in here?"_

 _Layla swayed on her feet as her arm bled profusely, dripping blood all over the Oriental rug on the floor. A large wolfhound lounging on the rug by the fireplace growled at her as she stumbled a few steps toward the closed door in a bid for escape, but Malfoy stood, setting the book and wine glass quickly on the side table next to his chair and rushing over to her. Layla screamed when Malfoy grabbed her by the upper arms, shrieking, "No, no, please! Let me go! I don't know anything! I swear I don't know anything!"_

 _Malfoy struggled to hold onto Layla as she fought viciously against his hold. "What are you talking about?" Malfoy demanded. "You don't know anything about what? Who are you?" When Layla ignored his questions as he pulled her toward the sofa, screaming instead of answering, Malfoy snapped, "Stop the bloody caterwauling." Malfoy forced her to sit down on the sofa and knelt in front of her, Layla's shrieks ceasing at his tone of authority, but she glared at him with a look of such pure hatred that left Malfoy momentarily dumbfounded. "I'm not going to hurt you," Malfoy said after a moment's thought, more gently._

 _Suddenly realizing that the man in front of her had blue eyes instead of gray, Layla's eyes widened in horror as a certain realization dawned on her. "W-who are you?" she sputtered._

 _Malfoy frowned, watching her face intently for a minute, then began to examine her spasming, mutilated arm. "Lucius Malfoy. This is my home," he said. "Now, will you please tell me who you are and how you ended up in my house?"_

* * *

Layla finally managed to push back against Snape and force him to exit her memories. The jerky, disjointed flow of information left her slightly dizzy as she came back to the reality in front of her, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. "I don't understand," Snape snapped angrily. "How is this possible?"

Glaring at the Slytherin, Layla sat down on the closest kitchen bench. "I was wearing a Time-Turner when Bellatrix tortured me," she admitted aloud for the first time in months, though it felt like a lifetime ago now. "It broke, and I ended up roughly twenty years in the past."

Snape thought long and hard on that. "Why not use it to save yourself and your parents before it got that far?"

Layla shrugged. "They weren't designed to go farther back in time than a few hours. By the time that I had the presence of mind and ability to use it… it was too late."

Snape said nothing, and at first, Layla thought he was going to allow the subject to drop and focus in on how she'd managed to steal his signature spell as a sixth year. Instead, he sat down beside her and said quietly, "I'm sorry for your loss."

His words were like the shock of ice on the skin after a hot shower. It was only then that Layla realized how incredibly _not_ over their loss she was, how much it still deeply hurt her, how desperately she still missed them. She did her best to brush it off, shrugging, but her voice was watery when she said, "It is what it is." She took a shaky breath, then added, "Anyway, now you know how I knew your stupid spell. My friend, Harry, had gotten hold of your old Potions textbook, and it was written in the margins. I never knew what the spell actually did until I accidentally used it on Sirius Black in September."

Snape nodded but said nothing. Layla stole a quick glance at him. He was sitting with his elbow planted on his knees, his hands in prayer in front of him, his black eyes staring intently at the kitchen floor, lost in thought. Growing increasingly uncomfortable, Layla chose to observe the house elves instead, watching them scurry around cleaning up after dinner and preparing anything necessary for tomorrow's breakfast. A young, tiny house elf appeared in front of her, holding a tray of pumpkin pasties that was larger than the elf herself high over her head, offering the snacks to the two seventh years with a shy smile. Layla offered a small, sad smile in return, accepting a pastry from the tray, surprised when Snape accepted one as well. The young elf's smile widened, then she scurried off to an older elf to put the tray on the Slytherin table for the next day's breakfast options.

After an uncomfortably long period of silence, Snape finally said, voice void of emotion, "We will continue these training sessions every Saturday night for the rest of the term in rotating locations. I will send you an owl with a schedule." Layla nodded silently, unsure what to say. Snape stood abruptly and swept out of the room, his black school robe billowing behind him.

* * *

 **February 23, 1978**

"Layla?" Dorcas's voice penetrated the fog of worry in Layla's mind, dragging her back to the reality of her increasingly cold scrambled eggs.

"Hmm?" Layla hummed quietly, pushing her breakfast around her plate, disinterested in actually consuming it.

Raising an eyebrow at her friend, Dorcas said, "Ok, I know you've been kind of off since we got back from the Christmas holiday and your engagement and stuff, but you're still usually pretty good about actually listening to me when I talk."

A twinge of guilt in her chest, Layla apologized, "Sorry. I didn't mean to zone out on you. Tell me again?"

Dorcas evaluated her fellow Ravenclaw with keen, penetrating eyes. "What's bothering you?"

Layla tried to play it off. "What do you mean?"

Dorcas snorted. "Oh, don't even try that," she said. "You're a terrible liar, Layla. Come on; it can't be all that bad."

Layla's eyes dropped from her friend's face back to her eggs. Regulus wasn't there to explain away her moods this time; he'd had an early morning Quidditch practice and hadn't made it to breakfast yet. Sighing, Layla decided that maybe sharing her concerns with her Muggleborn friend could be helpful. And considering Dorcas was her only friend that was a girl, she was in pretty desperate need of girl talk with _someone._ "Fine," Layla admitted. "It's about Lucius."

One look at Dorcas's face told Layla that that wasn't the response her friend had expected. "Malfoy?" Layla nodded. "Ok, what gives? Is he being a git to you or something?"

Layla shook her head. "No, no. Not at all." She hesitated, then continued, "He's not being anything, actually, and that's what has me worried."

"What do you mean?"

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Layla explained, "Well, you know how Lucius normally sends me those silly, overindulgent care packages at least once a week, and letters at least once a day."

"Know about them? Girl, I practically live off those care packages," Dorcas teased. "I think I eat more of those snacks than you do."

Layla rolled her eyes, smiling a little. "Truer words never spoken," Layla chuckled. "But seriously. It's been three weeks since I've heard from him."

Dorcas paused with a strawberry halfway to her mouth. "Huh. That is kind of odd."

"Yeah," Layla sighed, stirring her eggs that were now inedible levels of cold. "He's never gone even a day without at least sending me an owl before. And now, it's been three weeks since I've heard from him. The next Hogsmeade weekend is in a couple more weeks, and he's normally bugging the shit out of me to make plans with him for it by now."

"Well, yeah," Dorcas said. "Because you never seem to actually want to spend any time with him."

Layla blushed with guilt. "Was it really that obvious?"

Dorcas nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah. I was incredibly surprised to hear you two got engaged. I mean, when we first met you seemed totally disgusted by him, but then for whatever reason after the Halloween party you were on much better terms with him, and then Christmas comes and you two are engaged. Kind of a whirlwind romance, don't you think?"

Shrugging, Layla said, "I'd hardly call it a whirlwind romance. Or a romance of any kind, really."

Frowning, Dorcas demanded, "Then what the hell are you doing engaged to him?"

A flush of guilt heated Layla's cheeks, and she set her fork down. "To be honest, circumstances demanded it," she admitted quietly. "But I don't know, we are friends now. He's – he's always been incredibly nice to me, and –"

"Oh my god," Dorcas said with a growing grin. "You have a crush on Malfoy, don't you?"

Layla cringed at the childish choice of words. "I wouldn't call it that," Layla grumbled. "But yeah, I guess so." Dorcas laughed loudly, and Layla started digging through her school bag for nothing in particular, desperate to escape any attention her friend's laughter was drawing. "Come on; seriously. It's complicated. But the point is, he's never not written to me, especially not for this long. I'm worried about him."

Sobering up, Dorcas reassured, "Hey, come on. He's Lucius Malfoy. It's not as though the Death Eaters would have attacked him or kidnapped him or something. He's a pureblood and an elitist and everyone knows it."

"He's more than that," Layla snapped, growing a bit defensive of him. "He's not as elitist as you'd think, and he's a much better person than people realize. He's sweet and kind and caring and –"

"Whoa, hey, hey," Dorcas said, trying to calm the dark-haired girl down. "I didn't mean anything by it. Ok, yeah, so you're _definitely_ catching feelings for him."

Huffing, Layla said, "Yeah, I guess I am. I guess that's a good thing since I'm spending the rest of my life married to him."

"I guess so," Dorcas said, warier of Layla's mood than before. "Anyway, I'm sure he's fine. Maybe he's just busy with work or something?"

Layla blanched at that thought. As far as she knew, the only job Lucius Malfoy worked at was being a Death Eater. Why hadn't it ever occurred to her to bother to ask him what his day job was? "Yeah, maybe."

"Or he could be traveling for work," Dorcas suggested. "You know, somewhere that it takes the owls a lot longer to reach us here, like South America or Asia or something."

Layla nodded, feeling more worried than before she'd opened up to Dorcas about it. Had Voldemort sent Lucius abroad on some evil Death Eater mission? What if he was hurt or dead? Would any of the other Death Eaters even bother to tell her? Or would he become just another in a long string of missing persons in the _Daily_ _Prophet_? The thought shook Layla to the core. What would become of her if he were gone? "Yeah, maybe so," she said slowly, a little distant. Putting the contents of her school bag back in their proper order, she stood, mumbling, "I've got to go to class," before slipping quietly out of the Great Hall.

* * *

The Slytherin table was decidedly empty at that day's lunch hour when Layla slid into the seat beside Regulus. He raised an eyebrow at her, forever surprised when she joined him at his house's table. He wasn't prepared for when she stole his turkey and cheese sandwich right out of his hand, grabbed him by the arm, and yanked him away from the table, led him out of the Great Hall, and shoved him and his sandwich into a broom closet on the first-floor corridor. She lit her wand with a silent charm as she closed the door to the small, dark space before Regulus finally found his voice. "What the hell, Layla?"

She handed half of his sandwich back to him, taking a bite out of the other half. "Where's Lucius?"

Regulus's brow furrowed all the more in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Layla said around a bite of sandwich, "I mean, where is he? He hasn't written to me in three weeks now. I'm worried. Has the Dark Lord sent him off on some mission? Is he hurt? Is he in St. Mungo's? Is he – is he –"

"Slow down," Regulus said calmly, dropping a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his left hand still holding his sandwich. "Just slow down there. I didn't even know Lucius was gone. But I promise he's not dead. The Dark Lord would've filled his spot in his inner circle by now if that were the case, so I would know if he were. If he's off on a mission for the Dark Lord, I don't know anything about it. He often keeps things highly compartmented among his servants. I will see what I can find out for you, but honestly, you're probably just going to have to wait it out until Lucius comes home again."

Layla pouted a little but nodded. "Fine." After a moment's thought, she added, "Thanks."

Regulus nodded, eating what was left of his half of the sandwich in one big bite. Swallowing, he said, "You're welcome." After Layla finished the other half of his sandwich, Regulus said softly, "Layla, I think we should get out of this closet now."

Layla glanced up at him, confused. "What?"

"You know," Regulus said, his voice thick, "Because this is an exceptionally tight, confined space, with very little room left between us. And we both know that we can't allow for such… intimacies… between us, or we might be tempted to do things we aren't supposed to."

Heat rushed down Layla's spine as she caught Regulus's drift. "Oh," she said softly. "Right. Right. Ok. Yeah, let's get out of here."

Regulus squeezed her shoulder, but Layla jerked away, her hands just beginning to shake as she fought the overly intimate feelings she was suddenly having for Regulus. She threw the closet door open and rushed out, tears stinging the corner of her eyes, angry at herself and feeling stupid for letting him get to her so easily, even if he hadn't been intent on seducing her. She hurried to her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, her head swimming with thoughts on any subject except the one at hand.

* * *

 **March 4, 1978**

The Three Broomsticks bustled with life, overcrowded due to the Hogwarts students who were out on the town that particular Hogsmeade weekend. Layla sat at the bar with Regulus, sipping on the last of her butterbeer as he asked, "Have you still not heard anything from Lucius?"

Layla shook her head, staring hard at her drink as she stirred the ice with her straw. "No, not a word," she said worriedly.

Regulus took one last bite of his shepherd's pie, then stood quickly. "Come with me," he said quietly. Without a moment's hesitation, Layla followed Regulus out of the pub and into the nearest deserted alley. Regulus leaned casually against the alley wall as he said, "Look, I asked around about him. For the most part, I was told to shove off and mind my own business. But my cousin let it slip that he was out of the country and that the Dark Lord had him exactly where he wanted him."

Frowning, Layla said, "So, he _is_ off doing some work for the Dark Lord."

"It sounds like it," Regulus confirmed. After a tense silence, Regulus asked, "Layla, are you – I mean, do you – do you like him?"

Layla's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at him. "I don't know," she said honestly. "He's – he's very caring and – I don't know. I don't dislike him at least. It's – it's getting more comfortable, I think, to talk to him, to be with him. Or, at least it was until he disappeared…"

"Hey! Layla!" Dorcas waved to her roommate from the alley's entrance, and Regulus rolled his eyes.

When Layla glared at Regulus, he raised an eyebrow back at her as he whispered, "What? You know she's bad for your reputation."

Rolling her eyes at Regulus, Layla turned to Dorcas as she walked up. "Hey, what's up?" Layla said, reminding herself to not let her annoyance at Regulus redirect toward Dorcas.

"Want to go to Tomes and Scrolls with me?" Dorcas asked excitedly. "We can go to Honeydukes after to restock our sweets supply since Malfoy hasn't been keeping up with the candy baskets lately."

Nodding, Layla said, "Yeah, sure, sounds good. Regulus, do you want to come too?"

He shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll see you later, Layla."

Layla nodded goodbye to him, and Regulus wandered away in the opposite direction of the book shop. Forcing a smile, Layla followed Dorcas out of the alley to the High Street of the village as the dark-skinned girl babbled excitedly about a new book on theoretical charms that she was hoping to find that day. Layla only paid Dorcas enough attention to be polite, more concerned by worry for Lucius than interested in Dorcas's reading material.

As they walked up the front steps of the book shop, a shriek split the air a few stores away. Both girls jumped at the sound, and Layla whirled around, wand at the ready, and it didn't take long to spot the danger. A massive green cloud was forming the Dark Mark above the village as swirling dark shadows swept through the streets, materializing into masked Death Eaters. Curses began to fly in a deadly rainbow in the streets, and villagers and students alike fled in terror.

"Dorcas, get inside and hide," Layla ordered, instinctively reverting to her days in Dumbledore's Army, prepared to launch herself into the fray of battle to protect her friend and herself.

The command came too late, however, as a Death Eater manifested before them on the shop's porch. His masked face tilted as he inspected the girls with their backs to him. They only just looked over their shoulders at him as he spoke, and his voice was filled with dark amusement. "Well, what a pretty little mudblood we have here. Let's play, shall we?" Layla reacted first as the Death Eater cast a Cruciatus Curse at Dorcas, blocking it with some small difficulty. The man seemed to hesitate, then he said more sinisterly, "Wait a minute, I know you. You're Malfoy's girl, aren't you? Oh, he won't be too happy to hear about you defending a mudblood. Well, we can't be having that, now, can we?"

Layla threw a Stunning Spell at the Death Eater, but he easily swept the curse to the side and hit her square in the chest with a Knockback Jinx. Landing hard on her head, stars danced across her field of vision. She heard Dorcas screaming a few feet away, but a wave of pain in her head kept Layla pinned to the ground. Blindly, Layla waved her wand in the general direction of Dorcas's shrieks of pain, casting a Shield Charm in the hopes of protecting her friend. The growl of frustration from the Death Eater let her know of her success. "You just don't know when to quit, do you, bitch?" he snarled, and Layla heard his angry stomps approaching her. She raised her wand to defend herself as he continued to curse at her, but he went silent before she could think of another spell to cast.

Layla blinked hard several times, trying her hardest to clear her vision. When her eyes refocused, she found herself lying on the ground, wet from melted snow, face to face with the masked Death Eater. He lay unnervingly still, far too close to her for comfort. Layla jerked herself up into a sitting position, scrambling to scoot away from his dead body, triggering another severe pain in her head with the sudden movement. Hearing the rustle of a cloak, she looked up to find another masked Death Eater a few feet away, his wand trained on Dorcas. Layla cast a Stunning Spell at him, and without even looking at her, the man whisked the spell safely around his body and into the ground behind him. He stunned Dorcas, then turned his full attention to Layla. "Stupefy! Stupefy!" she cried, but he easily blocked her spells as he stalked toward her.

"Enough of this foolishness," the man growled as he knelt in front of her, grabbing her wand arm and forcing her wand to point away from him at the same time that his wand hand grabbed her black hair and used it to angle her head to allow him to examine her wound. She flinched and tried to yank out of his grip, and he scolded, "Enough, Layla! It's _me_."

Layla froze as she finally began to recognize the man's voice. His face was close enough now that she could see his clear blue eyes through his mask. "Lucius?" He huffed and nodded. "Where the fuck have you been all month?"

"France," he said curtly. Lucius let go of her hair and waved his wand over the gash just at her hairline, which she only just noticed was dripping blood down her forehead and into her eye. She wiped the blood away from her eye with her free hand as she felt his healing spell take effect and the flow of blood cease. "What the bloody hell were you thinking, protecting a mudblood from a Death Eater?" he snapped harshly.

Layla bristled against his implications. "I was doing the right thing," she hissed back.

"Well, don't," Lucius said, his voice cold as he let go of her wand arm. "Where's the mask I gave you?"

After a moment's thought, Layla answered, "I think it's in my trunk up in my dormitory."

"Damn it to hell!" Lucius cursed, standing and turning his back on her. After a split second, he said, "Then there's no time to talk now. It would put you at risk. You have to run, now."

"Run? From what?" she questioned as she managed to get to her feet.

"From me!" he snapped. "No one can see you being friendly with a Death Eater. Don't argue, Layla; run. Now! You can argue with me later!"

"Dorcas…"

"Will be fine, just go!" Lucius insisted. He unleashed a small Blasting Curse to the street just in front of Layla's feet. Finally taking the hint, Layla turned and ran as fast as her unsteady feet would carry her in the direction of Hogwarts.


	10. Chapter 10: Dirty Little Secret

_Let me know that I've done wrong when I've known this all along. I go around a time or two, just to waste my time with you. Tell me all that you've thrown away; find out games you don't want to play. You are the only one who needs to know – I'll keep you my dirty little secret. – Dirty Little Secret, The All-American Rejects_

* * *

 **March 4, 1978**

As Layla made it back to the path from the village to the school, she glanced back over her shoulder, worried about Lucius and Dorcas. She hated to leave her friend behind, but she trusted Lucius to protect Dorcas. More concerning was Lucius. The first time he reappears in a month, and it's to attack Hogsmeade Village, briefly chastise her with no explanation of his disappearance, and send her off to relative safety. Why had he simply disappeared without a word? Shouldn't he have at least told her that he was going away and wouldn't be reachable for an entire month? What had he been doing in France all this time that he couldn't send her even one owl?

"Well, well, well." Sirius's voice was an unwelcome intrusion on Layla's stream of consciousness. "Look who it is. I'm surprised you're not still down there in the village under a mask with your buddies. Or is your Death Eater fiancé too misogynistic to allow a woman to fight alongside him?"

Without turning to look at the Gryffindor behind her, Layla muttered under her breath, "Oh, fuck me…"

"Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm afraid I already have, and I'm none too eager to repeat the experience," Sirius snickered.

Ignoring his cruel taunt, Layla finally forced herself to turn around and face him, surprised to find that he was alone, without the band of Marauders that usually followed him everywhere. "What the fuck do you want, Sirius?" Layla snapped.

Sirius said nothing, eyeing Layla in a way she couldn't quite figure out. Suddenly, he asked, "Why are you doing all this, Danes?"

Frowning in confusion, Layla said, "What are you talking about, Black? I'm not the one attacking the village."

"I don't mean that," Sirius huffed, clearly annoyed she didn't automatically understand his vague question. "I mean, why the hell are you being the way that you are? Hanging around Slytherins and suspected Death Eaters, marrying Malfoy who used to literally make you sick with fear, siding with the pureblood elitists as if you've forgotten that you're actually a Muggleborn… Don't look so shocked, you can't really have believed that I'd forgotten all the things you said and did that first night at Hogwarts… Now, you're running around, being a part of all the things you hated and despised when we first met. Why?"

Suspicious, Layla demanded, "Why do you care?"

Sirius shifted his weight uneasily, hesitating for only a moment before blurting out, "Is it because of me? Just to spite me? Was I really that awful to you, that first night back at school, did I treat you so badly that you ran off to the Death Eaters and Malfoy just to get back at me?" Astounded by his self-centeredness, Layla couldn't even consider an answer to his questions for a moment, stunned into silence, so Sirius continued, "Seriously, I have to know. Was I that terrible a lover that you felt like you had no choice but to side with them? I mean, it doesn't seem even remotely natural for you; you're a Ravenclaw, for Merlin's sake. Well, I suppose your friendship with Regulus seems genuine enough, but he's my little brother, so it's just as likely you two simply bonded over a shared hatred of me…"

"Oh my god, Black, are you shitting me right now?" Layla demanded, anger finally overcoming her shock at his words. "You egocentric, arrogant, pompous git! You stupid self-centered bastard! How dare you even think that you could have so much of an effect on my life after one night together that you could actually drive me to join the Death Eaters just to spite you and your rejection. My world doesn't revolve around you, Black. I made the choices that were best for me, and I promise you, Black, that you and your dick were never calculated into that equation. Your brother is my best friend for no other reason than that he happens to be a wonderful, kind, caring person who would do anything for his friends and his family, a loyalty that I can deeply appreciate. As for Lucius Malfoy, it just so happens that I genuinely want to marry him for the simple fact that he is who he is, and you will never be half as good as him."

Puffing out his chest in a show of masculinity, Sirius ran a hand through his long dark hair. "Yeah, right, sure, whatever," he sneered. "I'm sure that the choice to marry him had nothing to do with the fact that you couldn't have me."

"Oh my god!" Layla half screeched in frustration. "It is not my job to soothe your fragile male ego! If you want some empty-headed bimbo to flatter your ego and suck your cock, ask Marlene McKinnon. Marlene is much more your type of floozy, and from the way she hangs on your every word in Transfiguration and giggles every damn time you open your idiotic mouth, I'm sure she'll be more than willing to do the job."

Sirius's jaw dropped at Layla's rant, then he snapped his mouth shut so hard Layla could actually see the tension in his jaw. "Fine," Sirius said coldly. "I thought I'd try to save you one last time and offer you a chance to be one of the good guys again by dating me and joining the Order of the Phoenix, but I see now that I'm wasting my breath. Goodbye, Danes, and good luck with the Death Eaters."

Rolling her eyes at him, Layla retorted, "Goodbye, Black, good luck with your attempt at fitting in with a corrupt, dysfunctional new family."

Sirius seemed a bit confused by her closing statement, and he looked as though he were about to ask her to explain it, but Layla pushed angrily past him as she spotted Regulus further up the trail to the school. She left Sirius behind as she walked up to Regulus. "Layla, there you are!" Regulus exclaimed in relief. "I've been worried sick about you. Wait, where's Dorcas?"

"Unconscious but safe," Layla snapped as she continued to walk past Regulus.

Regulus turned to follow her on her long walk back to the castle. "Layla, what's wrong?" he demanded as he lengthened his stride to keep up with her.

Scoffing, Layla echoed, "What's _wrong?_ Leave me alone, Regulus."

Brows furrowing in a mix of confusion and aggravation, Regulus said, "Hey, no, that's not going to work for me right now. Talk to me."

"I'm so not doing this right now," Layla said firmly, smacking his hand away when he reached for her arm.

"Oh, yes, you are," Regulus growled as he managed to get a grip on her arm and dragged her off the path into the edge of the forest, allowing several frightened Hogwarts students fleeing the attack in Hogsmeade to rush past them without paying them any attention. "We are doing this right now. Tell me what's wrong."

"Bite me," Layla snapped, trying to jerk her arm away from Regulus, to no avail.

"Don't tempt me, or I just might," Regulus snapped back, tightening his hold on her upper arm. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Everything!" Layla said bitterly. "Everything is fucking wrong. Or can't you see the attack happening on Hogsmeade right now?"

"Layla," Regulus said, his voice calm but tight from holding back his frustration. "Of course, I see it. But I also know that this is just how things are, and there's nothing either of us can do to change it. We just have to protect ourselves from it as best we can by choosing the winning side."

"Yeah, well, the winning side sucks," Layla said. "All those evil, disgusting, Death Eater bastards attacking innocent people, torturing kids like Dorcas who did nothing wrong for no better reason than the circumstances of her birth, calling us mudbloods and telling us to go back to the Muggle world like we're nothing but absolute filth…"

"Layla, what on earth are you talking about?" Regulus asked, bewildered. "It's not as though you're one of them; you're a halfblood. None of us are ever going to hurt you, and I truly hope you don't think of me as an evil, disgusting bastard…" He trailed off, frowning as he stared down at her midsection.

"Hey," Layla snarled. "My eyes are up here, Regulus, remember?"

"Haha, very funny," Regulus drawled as he gingerly touched the edge of her coat sleeve. She looked down and saw where her jacket and shirt sleeves had been forced up partially in all the chaos and a jagged raised pink line snaked from underneath the clothing across her skin. "What is that?" Regulus asked worriedly, pushing her sleeve further up, revealing the ragged shape of a "d" on her arm.

Layla jerked hard and practically screeched at him, "No! Don't touch me!"

Shocked into letting go of her arm, Regulus stumbled a step back as Layla practically threw herself back against the trunk of a tree in an attempt to get away from him. Steeling himself, Regulus raised his hand to try to place it on her shoulder to calm her down, but then he saw the tears welling up in her eyes. "Hey, it's all right," Regulus reassured her, keeping his hand raised but not moving any closer. "Layla, it's just me. Don't shut me out now." Too panicked to think straight, Layla shook her head and took off in a sprint up the path to Hogwarts. With a frustrated sigh, Regulus shouted, "Layla, wait!" It didn't take long for Regulus, with his long legs, to catch up with her. He did the only thing he could think of – grabbed her by the arm again and yanked her back to him. She screamed, fighting as hard as she could to get away. When she pulled her wand on him, Regulus grabbed it and wrestled it away from her. "Talk to me!" Regulus demanded, equal parts frustrated and confused. "Tell me what happened."

"I don't know anything," Layla cried, breaking down into sobs. "Please, please, I don't know anything. I don't know anything; just let me go."

Terrified with worry, Regulus asked, "Layla, what's happening right now? What can I do?"

Whimpering, Layla shook her head. "I don't know; I don't know; I don't know."

"Does Lucius know about this?"

Enough self-awareness returned at the mention of her fiancé that Layla replied, "He's down in the village, attacking with the others."

Regulus sighed. "Oh, fuck this," he groaned. "Can you apparate, Layla? You need to take me back to the manor with you, and we'll wait for him to return there."

Layla hesitated, then nodded, still struggling to stop crying as she began to calm just a little. Regulus returned her wand to her, and she accepted it tentatively. Using his strong hold on her left arm to pull him along, Layla disapparated, the pair reappearing just before the gates of Malfoy Manor. They walked up the path from the gate and into the house, and Dobby took their coats before ushering them to the library to wait for Lucius's return. As they entered the library, one of Lucius's large wolfhounds walked up to her with a sweet gruff, bumping his head against Layla's hand, demanding to be pet. She immediately dropped to her knees, hugging the dog around the neck and holding it tightly. Regulus sat down in a nearby chair, slumping over and running a hand tiredly through his hair, allowing Layla some time with the dog to calm down.

When she finally sat in a chair instead of on the floor and the dog curled up at her feet, Regulus finally broke the silence. "Layla, are you all right?" Layla nodded uncertainly. "What is that scar on your arm?"

Layla shook her head. "From an accident, when I was a kid," she said, her voice too small and weak to sell the lie.

Regulus gave her just the slightest of smiles. "Nice try." He stood up and crossed the oriental rug, kneeling next to her chair. "May I see it?" Regulus asked quietly, his hand hovering over the long sleeve of her Pink Floyd t-shirt.

Layla glanced rapidly from her arm to his face. "I wish you wouldn't," she mumbled.

"Layla," Regulus said gently. "Please. I just want to make sure you're all right and understand what's happening here."

Layla fought back tears, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve as she nodded. "Ok, fine," she said.

Regulus gently, tenderly took her arm and pushed her sleeve up her arm, away from the scars. Large, messy puckered pink lines carved the word _mudblood_ across her skin. Regulus's eyes widened in horror. "What – but, why?" Regulus stammered.

Sniffing, Layla explained, "I'm not a halfblood; Lucius lied to everyone about that to protect me. I'm just another stupid, worthless mudblood, like Dorcas and Lily Evans and…"

"Stop," Regulus ordered, and she fell silent at the surprisingly authoritative tone of his voice. "Just stop, please. You're not stupid or worthless."

"Yet you don't deny that I'm a mudblood," Layla accused. "You're just like the other Death Eaters, aren't you? You think I'm trash, that my blood is dirty, that I'm not good enough to be a witch like you."

"I did not say that," Regulus defended. "I would never say that about you. I – I love you, Layla."

"But you would say it about other Muggleborns if you weren't in love with them, wouldn't you?" Layla said, her voice laced with venom.

"Merlin's beard, Layla, stop this," Regulus said, exasperated. "I'm not your enemy. Ok, yes, maybe sometimes I do call people mudbloods, because that's how I was raised, and I am a Death Eater. That's the world we both live in right now, and I have to adapt to that, to fit in. But I would never, ever, dare to use such horrible language against you. I love you too much for that." He paused. "Why is Lucius protecting you then? Did other Death Eaters do this to you? I don't understand."

"You know all you need to know, Black." Lucius's frigid voice floated in from the door to the library, and both students turned to look at him. His robes and mask were coated in a fine mist of blood spatter, and he stepped into the room slowly. "In fact, it's more than you needed to know, but for now, it's most certainly all you're going to know." Regulus nodded, showing deference to his elder, more senior Death Eater. "You will protect her and this secret with your life if necessary, Black; otherwise, I will not hesitate to kill you. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Regulus said, and Layla could sense Regulus bristling against Lucius's implications that he would ever betray Layla, even if Lucius didn't notice it.

"Return to the school, Black," Lucius said dismissively. "I need some time alone with my fiancée."

Regulus stood, then said, "Lucius, Layla –"

"Can tell me what happened for herself, although I'm sure I can imagine the situation roughly, having experienced a few of her panic attacks myself," Lucius said coldly as he removed his mask and tossed it carelessly on the nearest end table. "You may go now, Black."

Regulus nodded, just on the edge of actually daring to glare at Lucius, then turned back to Layla. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and mouthed the words _I love you_ to her, then crossed to the library hearth, tossing some Floo Powder into the fireplace, then stepped inside, disappearing to the Slytherin common room.

Lucius approached Layla's chair, his dog moving out of his way as he crouched in front of her, his hands on her knees. "Are you all right?" he asked worriedly, brushing a stray curl of black hair out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear.

Layla flinched away from his touch. "You left me alone," she accused, her voice breaking on the word _alone_. She scratched violently at the scars on her arm as though they itched like a horrible reaction to poison ivy.

Lucius sighed sadly, glancing down to compose himself before looking up at her with sad eyes. "I didn't want to," he said quietly. "I didn't have a choice. I was given orders, and I had to follow them."

"You could've told me," Layla said tearfully. "You could've warned me that you were going to disappear somewhere off in – you said France? Why the hell couldn't you send me at least one single owl from France to let me know you were alive and safe?"

"Because it would've broken my orders, it would have put my mission and my life at risk," Lucius argued calmly. "I did what I had to do, my dearest."

"No," Layla snapped. "Don't call me that. You don't get to call me that right now. It wasn't fair, you just leaving like that. It wasn't fair."

"I know; I know it wasn't fair to you," Lucius said, more apologetic now. "But it was how it had to be done. I was there recruiting more followers for the Dark Lord, including dark creatures and wizards. I couldn't risk communicating with you, and there was no time to before I had to leave for the mainland. I'm sorry."

"I was worried sick about you," Layla continued to rant. "I spent all this time worrying about you, wondering if you were even still alive. Did you even think about me once while you were gone?"

Hurt blossomed on Lucius's face, and this time he didn't bother to try to hide it behind a mask of composure. "Of course, I did," he said, his voice filled with heartbreak. "How could you think that I wouldn't? I know you're angry with me and hurt right now, but I thought you at least knew me a little better than that." Clearing his throat, he said, more collected, "Anyway, I'm the one who should be asking you if you had forgotten about me."

"Excuse me?"

"I finally get permission to come home after a month, and the first time I see you, you're on the ground, head bleeding, your friend screaming under the Cruciatus Curse, and one of my fellow Death Eaters cursing your name and your affection for Muggleborns, ready to kill you in my name. _My_ name. I kill him to protect you, and when I walk up to you, you don't even recognize me."

"You were wearing a mask," Layla reminded him.

"You've seen my mask enough times by now, I'd have expected you to recognize it. And then I come home to find Regulus Black confessing his undying love for you, in my own home," Lucius sneered. "I can only just imagine what might have happened between you two star-crossed lovers had I not returned home when I did."

"Now that's not fair," Layla said. "We've talked about this before. I would never cheat on you."

"Even when I'm gone for months at a time with no contact?" Lucius sneered, standing to move over to the hearth to stare into the fire. "Even when I have to leave you so tragically alone again in the future, and he's just sitting there, in my home, pledging his undying love and loyalty to you?"

Layla hesitated a moment. "I didn't cheat on you," she said shakily as she stood as well, moving to stand next to him. "I would never cheat on you. You know that."

Lucius shook his head. "How can I know that for sure when I know that you don't love me? When I know you love him?" He asked, torn between anger and sadness. "How am I supposed to just trust that you wouldn't try to leave me for him?"

Growing frustrated with his assertions, Layla snapped, raising her voice, "How am I supposed to love you? I don't know you; I'm starting to feel like I'm never going to be able to truly know you or trust you. At least I know Regulus and can trust him."

"You're in love with him," Lucius alleged bitterly.

"Yes!" Layla retorted. "Yes, I'm still in love with him. Is that what you want to hear?"

"No! I want to hear that you love me, that you care about me, that you think we genuinely stand a chance of being happy together," Lucius snarled.

"Oh, just stop it!" Layla yelled. "Of course, I care about you, you stupid idiot! I want us to stand a chance of falling in love and being happy together, but how is that ever supposed to happen when we don't fucking trust each other, or hardly even see each other?"

Lucius threatened, "Darling, yell at me again, and I'll give you a real reason to scream."

Rolling her eyes, Layla sneered, "Oh, please, you would never hurt me."

"I never said anything about hurting you," Lucius replied darkly, and this time the lustful undertone of his voice was clear. A shiver ran down Layla's spine. He continued, "I know that Black is your best friend. I know that, and I know that I pushed you to become friends with him and that there's nothing I can do to make you stop loving him now. I wouldn't dare ask you to stop seeing him. But you are mine, Layla. You've promised me that, over and over again. And if he so much as lays a hand on you in a way that I don't like…" Layla raised her hand to try to slap some sense into him, but Lucius caught her wrist easily. He pushed her hard against the space between the stone fireplace and the African Blackwood bookshelves, pinning her wrist above her head. In a low, husky voice, Lucius breathed, "Why don't you try that again and see what happens, my dearest?"

Layla squirmed in his hold, her one free hand landing on his chest, though not pushing against him. She could feel him growing hard against her belly. "Lucius…"

"Layla," he said, smirking, her name dripping from his tongue like honey.

She shook her head. "I don't get you. Before, you were offering me permission to cheat on you with Regulus or anyone else I wanted to, as long as I upheld your dignity and family name by coming home every night and practicing safe sex. Now, you're so jealous that you're threatening to hurt him if he tries anything with me. So, which one was the lie?"

"Neither," Lucius said, his voice ringing true through the growing haze in her mind. "I was sincere both times. I was willing to allow you to sleep with whoever you like to make you happy, but then you promised to stay true to me, no matter what, and now… now, I simply want you to keep your word. I desperately want to believe that it's true that I'm the only one you will ever be with from now on."

He leaned forward and brushed a delicate kiss against her jaw just where it met her neck, and she trembled in his arms. "Lucius." She moaned his name softly, unable to help herself.

He smirked with pride at her response to his touch. "Layla," he murmured as he buried his face in her neck. "I don't want to fight with you like this. I'd rather make love with you right now."

Layla couldn't stop the small whimper that escaped her throat at his words. "Lucius," she whispered. "I've missed you this past month while you were gone. I was so terrified that something awful had happened to you, that I was going to be stuck here alone, without you. I wouldn't know what to do if anything happened to you."

Lucius's smile fell a little. "I know. I'm sorry. I hate that I worried you; I really do. I just… I want you to know that I thought about you so much while I was gone." He pressed his hips into her stomach, reminding her of just how hard he was getting from their flirtation. "In more ways than one," he added mischievously.

Layla pulled back enough that she could look into Lucius's eyes, surprised by the intense sincerity she found there, along with something else… love, maybe? She said softly, "Lucius, I – I don't know if I'm ready to try that again."

His face fell from lighthearted mischief to concern. He sighed, and Layla felt him put just enough space between them that they weren't connected at the hips anymore, and she let out a small breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I want you to be ready," he murmured. "We'll do this on your terms, not mine. Just… just know that whenever you're ready, I am too." Layla nodded. After a beat, Lucius added sadly, "And if you really would rather it be Regulus Black than me, I can accept that… I won't pretend to like it, but I can accept it, even if I'd rather you stay true to me. I won't intentionally and knowingly stand in the way of your happiness."

Sighing heavily, Layla didn't acknowledge his last statement. Instead, she gently pushed against his chest, and he released her wrist and allowed her to extricate herself from him. "I think I need to get back to the school before anyone there starts suspecting that I was part of the attack in Hogsmeade," she said quietly, unsure what to think about Lucius's offer right now. Lucius nodded, knowing she was right. He stepped away, allowing her to take some Floo Powder from the bowl on the mantlepiece. She hesitated in front of the hearth for a moment, then asked quietly, "Lucius? Is – is this going to change, to get better? Us, I mean. When I'm out of school in June, and I'm living here, and we get married, will we – will we really know each other then? Will we be happy together then?"

The heavy silence from where Lucius stood behind her felt like a weighty fog pushing against Layla's back, driving her out, begging her to leave with her questions unanswered. Just as she was about to let the Floo Powder drop into the flickering flames, he answered truthfully, "I honestly don't know. We'll be able to finally get to know one another more intimately, certainly. As for if we'll be happy together… I honestly don't know. I like to think so."

Layla nodded slightly, not looking back at him. "Slytherin Common Room," she mumbled, tossing the powder into the fire, then stepping into the roaring green flames.

Layla tumbled out the other side into Slytherin House, startling Regulus and Barty Crouch, Jr., who were sitting together on the cabriole directly in front of the hearth, previously entrenched in a heavy discussion. Layla took a deep, shaky breath, rubbing a stray bit of Floo ash off her face. Regulus quickly stood and crossed the short space to her, his hands on her shoulders as he unsuccessfully tried to make eye contact with her. "Hey," he said worriedly. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Layla answered automatically, refusing to meet his gaze as she realized that she'd forgotten her coat in the manor library.

"Did the Death Eaters catch you down in the village?" Barty asked curiously.

Layla shrugged, unsure how to answer his question. Regulus answered for her, "Of course not, Barty. You know who she's marrying. No one on either side would have the nerve to harm her and risk Lucius Malfoy's wrath."

Barty chuckled, "Oh, yeah, right, of course." After watching Regulus hover over Layla for a couple of minutes, Barty stood and said politely, "Let me just give you two some time alone; I've got essays to write anyway."

Regulus nodded dismissively to his friend, only just barely paying Barty any attention as he walked away, focused entirely on Layla. "Are you ok?" he whispered, tenderly brushing his thumb across her cheek.

Layla murmured, "Regulus, I don't –"

"Did he hurt you?" Regulus asked, heat rising in his voice.

Layla's eyes widened, and she finally made eye contact with his dark eyes. "No, of course not," she denied vehemently. "Lucius would never."

"The way he was acting earlier, I wouldn't be so sure," Regulus said bitterly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Layla asked, brows knitting together in defensive confusion.

"He was so cold and angry earlier," Regulus said. "And the way he asked for a few minutes alone with you, as if he owned you."

"Because he was angry with you," Layla hissed. "Because he overheard you telling me how much you love me. He wasn't pissed at me; he was pissed at you."

Regulus scoffed, "He was jealous because he knows that you love me just as much as I love you, and he knows that he might lose you to me."

"Yes, you're right, he was jealous," Layla admitted. "But he would never take that out on me in anger or violence."

"Sure, maybe not," Regulus conceded. "But I don't doubt he wouldn't hesitate to kill me if he thought we might be together."

"That's not true; he wouldn't do that," Layla said.

"Wouldn't he?"

"No."

"How would you know? You barely even know him."

"Because we've talked about it, you git," Layla snapped. "Lucius and I have discussed you and the ridiculously high levels of feelings you and I have for each other."

Raising an eyebrow at her, Regulus said, "Really now?"

"Yes, really," Layla sneered, then she thought better of what she was about to say and where she was going to say it. "Regulus, is there somewhere more private that we could discuss this?"

Regulus nodded. "Of course." He took her hand and led her to a corridor off the common room, and she followed him, glancing around at the various banners that hung from the stone walls between doors until he found the room he was looking for. He opened the door and the two walked into the dorm room, where Barty sat on one bed with a book and Evan Rosier stood by another, just tossing a black button-down shirt across his shoulders. "Out," Regulus barked at his two roommates, throwing a genuinely intimidating glare at the both of them.

Barty grinned at the sight of the pair, and Layla blanched slightly, knowing what the boy must be thinking was going on. Steeling herself and attempting to be just as intimidating as Regulus, she snapped, "Stop grinning like a simpleton, Crouch. This isn't personal; we can hardly discuss the Dark Lord's business out in the open, now, can we?"

The smirk was instantly wiped from Barty's face, and he scrambled to get his school things together and quickly departed to do his homework elsewhere. Rosier continued to take his time buttoning his shirt, his eyes darting from Regulus to Layla and back again curiously. "The Dark Lord's business, eh?" he said calmly.

Regulus narrowed his eyes at Rosier. "That's right," Regulus said, so convincing that even Layla halfway believed him. "After the attack on the village this afternoon, Layla and I have received orders of our own, designed to further the Dark Lord's purposes. It's not information for the general public – or you – to know."

"Hmph." Rosier grabbed his broomstick from where it leaned against his bedframe, reminding Layla that he was one of the Slytherin Quidditch team's Beaters and that she would be facing him on the Quidditch pitch competing for the Quidditch School Champion Cup quite soon. As he walked past Regulus to leave the room, he stopped and leaned in to whisper to Regulus, and Layla had to strain to hear him. "Try not to leave the room too big of a mess as you do the Dark Lord's work, hm? I'd like to return to find my own bed, at least, still clean and unsoiled by her halfblood juices –"

As Layla's cheeks heated with embarrassment, Regulus whipped his wand out so fast that the motion was a blur to her eyes. "Get out," Regulus said through clenched teeth. "Before I decide to cut out your disgusting tongue and shove it up your ass."

Rosier smirked, knowing he'd gotten under Regulus's skin. He shoulder-checked Regulus as he strode lazily out of the dorm, closing the door easily behind him. Layla exhaled sharply as Regulus sat on the third bed in the room. He waved his wand, locking the door, and cast a Silencing Charm on the room. He looked up at Layla with tired eyes. "Sorry about that," he said. "I just couldn't think of a better place nearby to talk where we could be truly guaranteed to be left alone."

"It's fine," Layla grumbled. "Let's just get this over with."

"Yeah, get what exactly over with?" Regulus asked, genuinely curious. "You said you and Lucius had discussed the possibility of you and I being together? You mean, since the engagement?" Layla nodded. "Well, what the hell did he say?"

Hesitating, Layla considered lying to him about it. Did she truly want to open this Pandora's box? How incredibly selfish of her would it be to admit that if they wanted to, they could be together, as long as their relationship remained discreet? Not only would it break Lucius's heart, but it would put both of their lives at risk, should anyone other than Lucius discover their secret affair.

"Layla." Regulus's pained voice called her back to the moment. "Please."

"He – he gave me permission to have an affair with you," Layla admitted quietly, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as she told Regulus the truth. "He said – he said that I could run around with you or whoever else I wanted if that was what would make me truly happy, as long as I followed his rules."

Regulus raised an eyebrow at that. "What rules would that be?"

"Essentially? Make sure it stays secret, always practice safe sex, and come home to him every night," Layla said, her voice as weak as her resolve to not cheat on Lucius.

Regulus thought it over for a long minute, then slowly stood and crossed the room again, stopping so close in front of her that she could feel his breath on her face. "What do you want?" he asked gently, never touching her.

Surprised by the question, Layla looked up at him, his chocolate eyes further melting her willpower. "What?"

"What do you want?" Regulus repeated, clenching and unclenching his fists in an effort to control his sexual impulses. "I know that I want you, beyond a shadow of a doubt. But I want to know what you want, Layla."

Shutting her eyes tightly, trying her hardest to shut out her desires, Layla mumbled, "Honestly, I just want to be good. I don't – so many things, over the last couple of years, outside of my control. I've never had a choice; I just try my hardest to do what's right. And then I get here and there's you and there's Lucius, and I feel that much more out of control, because I'm not doing what's true and right and pure anymore; I'm just doing what's right for me. And I'm not sure I even know what's right for me anymore."

Tears threatened to spill out from her clenched eyes, then she felt Regulus's lips lovingly ghost over each of her eyes, kissing her tears away. "Do I feel right to you, Layla?" he asked, his voice a breath against her ear.

Layla inhaled a shaky breath. "If I were being honest with myself," she breathed. "I want you, Regulus. More than anything." She felt Regulus lean in again, this time pressing his lips lightly against hers. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and pull him in closer and closer until they were one person. But she could feel the truth in her gut, that the butterflies weren't beating happy wings; they were drowning, dying, desperate to escape the source of their ultimate doom. She whispered against his lips, "But I can't do this, Regulus. I may not love him, and this may not be the right decision, but I belong to him, just as he belongs to me now. He would never cheat on me, and I shouldn't cheat on him either, no matter how badly I may want to. It's wrong, even if you're the right one for me."

Regulus sighed heavily, leaning his forehead against hers. They stayed like that, content for a moment to simply breathe the same air before he broke the silence. "There's nothing I could say to convince you to change your mind and be with me, is there? Even if I can only have you for a single night?"

Layla shook her head slightly. "No, there's not," she said honestly. "Because even if we did only plan to give in to each other for just one night, it would just make it that much harder to resist each other after that. It would spiral out of control so fast. And I'm tired of feeling like I have no control over my life. This is the one thing I can control, and I'm determined to do the right thing for once."

A warm wetness blossomed on her cheek, and Layla was surprised to realize that Regulus's was struggling not to cry. She reached up to touch his cheek, but he stepped back and pulled away from her. "I understand," he said, his voice breaking. "I missed my chance at the gala. You should do what you feel is right. I would never ask you to break your code of ethics." He took a shaky breath in, then said, "I love you enough to let you go."

Shattered inside, Layla murmured, "Thank you."

Regulus nodded, then waved his wand, unlocking the door and taking down the Silencing Charm. "You should go," he said miserably. "I'd hate to tempt you to change your mind by keeping you here any longer." Not hesitating more than half a second, Layla rushed out of his dorm room and out of the Slytherin, desperate for the safety of her bed in Ravenclaw tower.


End file.
